


Haldir and the Easterling of Lothlorien

by Quietbeansidhe



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 16:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 111,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13574370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quietbeansidhe/pseuds/Quietbeansidhe
Summary: Young Amdir has always wondered about the march warden, Haldir, who saved her life when she was an elfling and delivered her to King Thranduil's halls. Now an adult, she travels to Lothlorien to complete her education and to thank Haldir, but while she is there, an unexpected visitor arrives who has the power to turn the world of Haldir and Amdir upside down.





	1. Reunions

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the next story in a series that started with Thranduil and The Dark Elf of Fangorn. Ideally it would be read after The Dark Elf, but it can also be a stand-alone read. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

Amdir bounded down the steps of Lothlorien's central treebound staircase, wishing that she could simply climb down the trees as she often did in Mirkwood when she was an elfling in King Thranduil's Halls.

As she descended each level of steps, she kept her eyes glued to the newly arrived travelers milling about in the courtyard below.

Haldir was part of this group, Haldir was the real reason she was here. She hadn't seen the march warden of Lothlorien since she was all of 15 years old, 35 years ago, when her parents had been murdered by orcs. She had managed to escape, and was eventually found in the north of the forest by the Lady's best warrior and tracker.

She owed her life to Haldir, and while she had successfully blocked out many of the memories surrounding the trauma of her parent's attack, the memories of Haldir's kindness had long stayed with her, and it was thinking about this kindness had helped her avoid the bitterness that often comes with surviving a tragic event.

But that was many decades ago and she had grown. Next year she would begin her official role as King Thranduil's translator. She had always had a passion for languages and both the King and his Queen, Amdir's close friend Isobel, had supported and mentored her.

It was the Queen who had suggested that she travel to Lothlorien to perfect her grasp of Khuzdul and to work with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn's counsellors and diplomats to better understand Khazad-dum culture.

Below her, the melee showed no signs of dissipating, in fact, more elves had arrived and were greeting the returned travelers with hugs, laugher and good natured insults.

While she generally found the Galadhrim to be more reserved than their Mirkwood counterparts with visitors, on their own they could be surprising gregarious, exhibiting camaraderie and humour.

She paused near the bottom of the stairs and nervously smoothed her brown braids, pushing them off her shoulders so they hung in a neat river down her back, and looking down to check that her blue silk gown was draped appropriately.

By the Valar she was nervous to see her childhood protector! With a small shake of her head and a deep breath she continued into the small crowd, where the warriors of the march were handing their horses to well-trained grooms and catching up with family and friends.

Amdir caught the curious eye of some of the warriors, and she appreciated their welcome smiles, for she understood that these elves knew that Amdir could be no stranger, if she had leave to wander amongst them unattended.

She quietly approached a group of four elves, the tallest elf stood erect, his silver hair gleaming in Lothlorien's dappled forest light, his features straight and more full than normal for a Galadhrim. His cheekbones were slightly bronzed from rare days spent outside of the forest's misty shade, and he looked at his companions with intelligent blue eyes that missed nothing. He was just as she'd remembered him only more… handsome. She shook her head and repeated her original thought. He was just as she remembered him, full stop.

At that moment, his eyes flicked up and caught her own. Amdir stilled as Haldir's headed tiled slightly to the right as he puzzled her out. One of his companions was the stately Uiron, Celeborn's main advisor, and he followed Haldir's eyes. On seeing Amdir standing just outside the group, he pivoted towards her and took her hand with a warm smile, pulling her into their circle.

"Amdir, how lovely that you've come to greet our march wardens," he said, his steady light blue eyes held the merest twinkle. He motioned to the other elves in the group.

"This is Rumil, Orophin, and of course, you may remember their eldest brother, Haldir, from his days in Mirkwood many years ago."

The two younger elves smiled warmly, but Haldir's eyes opened wide in surprise and he stepped forward, his shock transforming into a broad grin. "Amdir? The tiny elleth I returned to King Thranduil's halls all those years ago? You are so….grown!"

Amdir laughed and shyly looked down, and when she looked up again, she directed her gaze at Uiron. "Thank you, Uiron, I am pleased to meet you both, Rumil and Orophin. I have heard much of your adventures. Prince Legolas speaks of you both with much reverence, and...Haldir."

She found the courage to look up at him, and was gratified that he stared back at her, his winsome face beaming. "Of course I am most happy to see you again, and to have the chance to thank you for all you did for me during that time. I don't remember much of it, but I do remember riding with you at the front of your saddle."

Rumel and Orophin exchanged amused glances, and Haldir nodded, his smile faltered as he no doubt remembered the events of that winter when he had found Amdir wandering the forest, in shock at having witnessed her parent's murder at the hands of Dul Gudor orcs.

"I am most happy to see you here," he said graciously, his eyes studying her with a slight question as though to ask "how are you really?"

Amdir stepped back, not sure to interpret his look as thoughtful or a tad forward, when the group was interrupted by three grooms who'd come to take their horses away to be watered down and fed after their journey. Uiron spread his arms, encompassing the group. "Come, we must prepare as the Lady has planned a banquet to celebrate your company's safe return from the outer marches, Haldir."

Haldir and his brothers nodded and Uiron turned his wise face to Amdir. "I trust you will be joining us in the main hall tonight?"

Amdir nodded, knowing that Uiron was well aware of the Lord and Lady's mentorship, and that she would be included as one of the guests of honour, alongside the returning march wardens. The four turned to walk towards the private flets that housed the city's militia.

"Then we shall have time to catch up," said Haldir, glancing down at her. "I would hear of your education and your life in Mirkwood."

Uiron offered Amdir his arm and with a grateful smile she accepted. "I shall walk you back to your quarters, Mistress Amdir. As these warriors clean up, you can give me a full account of your studies to date. I understand you wrote an impressive report on the culture of fostering young male dwarves in Khazad-dum to strengthen alliances. Is it true that foster families are chosen even before the dwarves are born?"

The two younger warriors took the hint and nodded at Amdir and Uiron before taking their leave, but their big brother paused for a moment, his eyes on Amdir. Then with a small smile and shake of his head, as though he still doubted what he was seeing, he followed his brothers, his step quick and light to catch up with them.

As Amdir allowed Uiron to lead her back to her quarters, she could hear Haldir's laughter in the distance and her own lips creased into a smile.

* * *

 

That evening found Amdir sitting near the head table in a long outdoor hall with a ceiling of velvety green beech and burnished gold mallorn leaves than hung enchantingly over three long tables lit with hundreds of candles and silver bright lanterns.

At the top of hall, against a white quartz wall accented with green moss in the places where small waterfalls gently blessed the stone as they gracefully made their way down the rockface, was the head table, where sat the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, emanating more light than the brightest of lanterns. Next to them sat their closest advisors including Haldir and Uiron. Amdir herself sat near the top the middle table across from Liadan, an elleth of the same age who shared Amdir's love of languages.

During the three weeks since her arrival, Amdir had grown close to Liadan, as they attended classes together. To the Lord and Lady's pleasure, Liadan had taken it upon herself to help Amdir navigate the finer details of life in Lothlorien and proved herself a dedicated companion of whom the young wood elf had grown quite fond.

"Did he recognize you?" Liadan asked, as both elves looked over to the silver haired march warden who was deeply immersed in conversation with Lord Celeborn, his fingers lingering over a meal of venison and beech nuts.

Amdir's face returned to her friend and she shook her head. "Not at first, but afterwards he seemed quite pleased to see me again."

Liadan took a sip of wine. "Will you speak with him afterwards? You should. You know he is not bonded. They say his heart was broken many years ago and since then he avoids romantic attachments."

Amdir's eyes widened and she looked around nervously. "Hush Liadan, others will hear you!" But Liadan only laughed, and Amdir smiled in spite of herself, and leaned in. "I have heard the same said in Mirkwood," she admitted, "but nobody will say who the elleth was that stole his heart and never returned it."

Liadan lowered her voice even more. "We have not the same reserve when it comes to gossip; I have heard it said it was the Queen of Mirkwood herself."

Admir sat back and rolled her eyes, her voice returning to its normal level. "That's ridiculous. Our Queen has only ever loved the King. Everyone knows that."

Liadan shrugged her shoulders and pushed Amdir's wine goblet closer to the tall chestnut-haired elleth. "Sometimes there is more to the story than we think," she said. Amdir responded with a shake of her head and both elves dissolved into laugher.

"And may I enquire as to the source of such merriment?"

Haldir's voice interrupted the two elves whose faces immediately grew sober, and two sets of abashed eyes turned to take in the simply dressed march warden who stood watching them, wine glass in one hand.

"Haldir! We were just discussing…errr…" she hastily took a sip of wine, and Liadan jumped in. "The mating rituals of dwarves."

Amdir chocked on her wine as Haldir took the seat beside Liadan, who moved down the bench to accommodate him. He looked across the table at Amdir and offered her a napkin, which she gratefully accepted with pink tinged cheeks.

Liadan suddenly stood up, and the march warden rose with her. "Haldir, I am most happy to see you returned safely from such a dangerous mission, but if you will both excuse me, I promised my…Ada... that I would spend time with him after the banquet, and I don't want to be late."

Haldir smiled graciously and waited for Liadan to depart before returning to his seat across from Amdir, who smiled shyly and took another sip of her wine.

"I had heard that the King had arranged for you to visit us, but did not expect you so soon. Uiron mentioned you are proficient at languages and training to become a translator in King Thranduil's diplomatic corp."

She glanced up a him taking in his sharp blue eyes, and pausing on his full lips.

"Yes, I am pleased to have the chance to complete my training here in Caras Galadhon, but I also came here because I wanted to see you."

Haldir blinked although his face remained kind. "Now what would a young translator-to-be want with an old ellon like myself?"

Amdir smiled and tilted her head, causing Haldir's lips to twitch. "The Queen has told me much of what happened the season I lost my parents and if it weren't for you, I would not have survived. You rescued me from the forest and the orcs that hunted me, and you travelled with me north to King Thranduil's halls. I owe you my life, and I wanted to show you that I am not wasting the life you restored to me."

Haldir's smile faded as he absorbed the gravitas of the the young elleth's words. "You do me great honour, dear Amdir. Rescuing you was no act of valor as you imagine, it was my job, but one I performed with great pleasure, and the memory of that small lost elleth warms my soul to this day."

Amdir sat taller on the bench. "As you can see, I am not a small lost elleth anymore."

"Indeed you are not."

They stared at each other for a heartbeat, then their attention was directed to a commotion at the far side of the hall, where a messenger had entered and was making his way up the length of the outdoor room, between the tables, to deliver a message to the Lord and Lady. Once at the top, he dropped to one knee.

"You may rise," said Lord Celeborn. "What message do you bring this evening, Meldir?"

The messenger lithely stood and bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"The Southern detachment travels this way now. They bring with them a prisoner, an Easterling, my Lord and Lady, and who claims he once served in Dul Guldor as a slave."

"An Easterling elf? Now that is a surprise." Celeborn and Galadriel exchanged a meaningful glance as the sound of shocked murmurs rose above the tables.

"Thank you. You are weary, please partake in this banquet and recover your strength."

"My Lord," said the messenger with a bow, and he was quickly led away by a serving elleth.

Haldir rose. "Well Amdir," he said ruefully. "How is your grasp of Rhun, for it looks like we may be in need of a translator."

Amdir nodded. "I am at the Lord and Lady's service, Haldir. As I am at yours."

Haldir smiled. "Come with me, let's see what we can make of this Easterling who approaches our city."

Amdir glowed, pleased that he would single her out for service so quickly. Together they left the hall, Haldir offering Celeborn a curt nod as they departed.

* * *

 

Amdir sat on a bench outside Lord Celeborn's private office. Inside he, Haldir and a bevvy of advisors gathered to discuss the arrival of the Easterling slave who had only now just arrived and was being held in a small oak grove whose careful enchantments served to imprison the interloper with more strength than mithril bars.

Rather than feeling left out, she was pleased to have been included at all. It was a great display of trust for she knew that Lothlorien had its own translators, although she also knew that few, if any, in the Elven realms were as proficient at Rhun as was she.

The door suddenly opened and Amdir quickly stood. Seeing Celeborn emerge first, she fell into a deep curtsey.

"Rise Amdir. We will require your services to assist in our interrogation." He looked at her closely, silver eyes boring into her. "Interrogating a prisoner is not always a pleasant task. Do you feel ready?"

She looked to Lord Celeborn and the expectant faces of his advisors behind him, including that of Haldir. She nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

"Very well. Haldir, you and Rumil may bring her down to the prisoner. I entrust to you her safety and protection, for if anything should happen to her, it is you who will have the pleasure of explaining it to my cousin, King Thranduil."

Haldir nodded and turned to Amdir. "Follow me," and three elves hastened down the starlit staircase to where the prisoner was held.

Haldir's demeanor, so warm and open earlier, had transitioned to the hard warrior persona for which he was known and feared across Middleearth. Amdir looked at him through the tail of here eye with interest. His jaw was squared and his lips set in a grim line. Beside him, Rumil, who looked much like his brother but for a leaner physique, shared his intense gaze and determined gait.

"You are not to speak unless spoken to," directed Haldir as he walked. Amdir struggled to keep up with his is long-legged stride. "If we direct you to leave, I request that you do so with haste, as it will be for your protection. I warn you: While our methods may seem harsh to you, you are not to defend nor question them, and you will make no contact with the prisoner outside of what is strictly necessary to translate his speech."

As they approached the cell-grove, Amdir paused in wonder. In Lothlorien, even the prisons were strikingly beautiful. The enchanted trees emitted a strange and wondrous green energetic curtain that sparked blue when touched by leaves or insects. A small white butterfly passed through it with a bright spark, but emerged on the other side quite unharmed. She imagined it would be a different story if the prisoner tried to do the same.

Inside the transparent green walls, a man knelt in the corner, his knees on a bed of soft moss, leaning over to cup his hands under a small waterfall and wash his face. Amdir's breath caught. On closer inspection, he had the long limbs and graceful stature of an elf, and a noble elf at that. Yet his bronzed skin was covered in tattoos; a bridge of dots crossed his cheeks and eyes and strange symbols decorated his jaw down his neck and disappeared into a dirty grey tunic. Jet black hair hung in disheveled braids down his back. He turned to face them and wild green eyes fell on the three elves, his lashes wet and dark. Full lips parted as he stared at them, showing the hint of white teeth. He rose, and that's when Amdir noticed the golden ropes around his feet and wrists.

The Easterling's gaze fell on the young translator, dropping from her face down to her feet, and studying every inch of her in between. Haldir quickly stepped in front of her to block the prisoner's view.

"You will remain out here," he said to her. "Repeat everything he says. Do not look at him. Do not speak directly to him."

She nodded, suddenly nervous, but determined to do a good job, and stepped aside as the two guards entered the cell, swords drawn.

Rumil stood in front of the prisoner, while Haldir stood beside him.

"What is your name?" demanded Rumil. All eyes shifted to Amdir who quickly translated. The prisoners' dark green eyes had calmed as he began to understand what was happening. With a deep breath, he began to speak.

"He is Uldor son Ulfang, and he comes from a long line of chieftains from the south east, past the dark lands…he was taken by a band of orcs, the army of his father's guests, there was an alliance but the orcs killed his village - no, his family - and he and his sister were taken… and his sister raped and tortured…"

Amdir paused to gather herself, but Uldor kept talking.

"Please slow down," said Amdir, making eye contact, and the prisoner paused.

"Amdir," said Haldir sharply, and she looked away.

Uldor began to speak again, but more slowly this time, he looked at Rumil and occasionally turned to look at Haldir, who still held his sword a few inches from the elf's neck.

"He says that he was spared because he is elven kind, but he was forced to serve Maeglin before you – Haldir – took Dul Guldor many decades ago."

Surprise crossed Haldir's face and he exchanged a look with Rumil. "How is it?" Haldir asked, "That an elf identifies himself as an Easterling and indeed bears the dress and tattoos of an eastern clan?"

Amdir quickly translated, and Uldor watched her, his eyes alert but his bearing wary. Despite Haldir's warning, she met the prisoner's gaze, for she too was curious to know the answer.

Uldor's eyes did not waiver from her face. "He is half-elven," she translated. "His mother was an Easterling, his real father elven, Noldo – no – Sinda, both, he says. But he was raised by Ulfang who took him as his own son. When you destroyed the Orc army at Dul Guldor, he escaped and has been living in the Brown Lands these years hence. He came south because the land has become too barren and dangerous with encroaching Orc raiders, and he seeks refuge within the Elven realms."

"Who was your elven father?" asked Haldir, and the prisoner's face shuttered, suddenly expressionless as he spoke.

"He says he does not know. His elven father disappeared before he was born and his mother would never tell him the name."

Haldir looked hard at the dark-haired elf in front of him, who in turn stared at Amdir and asked a question.

"He requests that you release his ropes," she translated. "He says there is no reason to tie him up as he means no harm."

"We'll be the judge of that," replied Haldir as he and Rumil abruptly quit the cell, the interrogation completed for for the time being. He turned back to the prisoner at the last minute "You will remain bound," he said, and the prisoner's face fell. If he didn't understand the march warden's words, his tone was clear enough.

Amdir watched the exchange. While the elf was well-built with broad shoulders and almost as tall as Haldir, he didn't seem dangerous. But it was not for her to question Haldir's tactics and was this not what Haldir had warned her not to do? With a deep inhale, she turned away and followed Haldir and Rumil down the forest path to the main hall to report back to its Lord and Lady.

But as she walked she could not forget the feral look of those deep green eyes, simultaneously beautiful yet dangerous, nor the strange tattoos that traced the contours of Uldor's face, or his strange eastern accent as he told his story in a soft masculine voice. She had never seen anything like him, and she only hoped that her intrigue didn't show.

 


	2. Rose Tea

Uldor sat back in his forest cell, and surveyed his surroundings. This land was so rich compared to the harsh sundried brown lands where he'd spent the last 35 years.

He closed his eyes and focused on the soft sound of water falling into the small pool beside him. Even prison cells had waterfalls in this elven city, even prisoners enjoyed the comfort of a warm mossy bed, good food and flowers that grew on the branches high above him and dropped their petals in the breeze. If only his people back home had some of this bounty to soften their spirit, what a difference it would make.

As an elf living amongst men for the first half of his life, he had watched as his people's frail bodies endured the privations or a barren land. Lack of clean water, the unrelenting beating of sun on hard cracked earth, and a dry hot wind that never ceased to blow and gave no relief.

He had achingly watched as young children fell victim to sickness and the old died from limbs worn frail from over-work or war. He did what he could, but it was never enough. While he had been challenged at times to turn away from the suffering and to stop risking his immortal heart, in the end it only made him love his mother's people more deeply, knowing how limited was the time he could spend with them.

But here in this magical place, none of that harshness existed. How he envied these elves their pristine lifestyle, how he resented their privilege and their excess. Even if he was accepted, he was not sure that he could live among them without eventually hating them, or hating himself.

His mind wandered to the pretty translator. He could tell she was young, and very nervous. Her command of his language was far from perfect, but it was passible, and he wondered why she could speak it at all. He had been raised with stories of how despised his people were and how the elves of Middleearth arrogantly put themselves above all other races. And yet this translator was almost fluent in his native tongue. Of course he could understand every word everyone said, but he wasn't about to give that away. Better they think he's ignorant. Better he create more opportunities to see the young translator again…

Until then, the land itself was a comfort, and while he could never feel altogether peaceful, there was a stillness in this realm that soothed his sunburnt skin and smoothed the valleys of his pain like when the first rain soaks an empty riverbed.

As cool mist from the falling water freshened his face, and he thought that perhaps he _could_  get used to this, perhaps he  _could_ return to the beauty of his birthright as an elf, without resenting it. But only if they never knew his true identify. He must make sure that it was never revealed or he would never gain their trust. It was his only chance.

* * *

The next morning Amdir woke early and took her rose tea on in the gardens outside her flet. She watched as two chipmunks merrily chased each other in circles by her feet, and she tracked the patterns on the forest floor as the sun slowly made its way across the morning sky. Mist rose from damp spots as they made contact with the sun and a gentle breeze warmed the cool of the early morning. She had a meeting with Celeborn later that day, but till then her time was her own, and it was a rare opportunity to consider the last 24 hours.

She closed her eyes and exhaled, hoping to release some of the tension that had built up in her neck and shoulders, but the Easterling kept hijacking her focus. To be an elf of unkown parentage was practically unheard of, in fact, there were no examples in history that she could think of. No elf abandoned his or her children, unless of course, they were unaware that they had sired a child at all.

"A jewel for your thoughts?"

Amdir open her eyes and smiled up at her visitor.

"May I?" Haldir asked, motioning to the empty seat beside her.

"Would you like some tea? It's still hot."

He smiled as he lowered his powerful frame down in the carved wooden chair and watched as Amdir poured another cup and handed it to him.

They each settled back and she looked over to him, her brows raised, waiting for him to begin.

"I wanted to check on you after the interrogation yesterday. I know that when you considered translation as a career, you may not have extended your goals to interrogating, and I can't help but think that I threw you into it."

She pursed her lips together and nodded. "Yes, that is very true. But of course I was happy to help. While I hadn't thought about being used to interpret interrogations, I'm sure that Thranduil won't hesitate to call on me if that need arises. The prisoner did not seem violent, if anything he seemed sad, but what most surprised me was you. It was odd to see you like that. So...hard."

Now Haldir's brows rose. "Was it so? But you don't know me well, why would anything about me surprise you?"

Amdir had the grace to look abashed. "Well, I suppose that I remember you very different."

His shrugged. "You were an elfling, riding along in my saddle, or hiding behind my legs and begging me to carry you around. I took care of you, but I am a warrior, that is my training. You were assigned to me not because I could be kind to you, but because I could protect you. Surely as an adult you can understand that I have many sides."

Amdir lifted a small hand to her forehead. "Of course, I am being childish…"

Haldir quickly leaned over to her and she was struck by the piercing blue of his eyes and the intensity of his gaze. Every time he looked at her she felt that he was studying her in some way. His eyes hovered on each part of her face and neck in turn, yet for all his warmth and humour, his face was unreadable; he gave nothing of his inner thoughts away. He smiled reassuringly at her. "No, not at all, it was a natural response, and I didn't mean to embarrass you. I suspect I am having a hard time reconciling the elfling you once were with the grown elf sitting beside me. You are also very changed! I could not have foretold you would become such an enchanting elleth in your own right. Tell you what, why don't we get to know each other again? I don't plan to go back to the marches for at least a few weeks so we have some time. What do you think?"

Amdir bit her lip then looked over to him with a grin. She knew he flattered her somewhat, perhaps even indulged her, but she didn't care. She basked in his attention. "It's a deal," she said, holding up her tea glass. He lifted his own to toast her and they each took a sip.

"It's good tea," he said and she shrugged off the compliment, stealing sideway glances of him now and again.

"Tell me Amdir, how fares your King and Queen? I understand the Queen lost a child."

She ran her hand down the brown braid that hung over here shoulder, noting at the last minute the march warden's eyes following her hand. "Yes, it was very sad, but she is now expecting twins, and this time Tirathiul is confident of their good health."

Haldir nodded, "Ah yes, my good friend Tira. Thranduil's longest-serving advisor and healer. You will have to send her my regards on your return. Do you see her often?"

"Well I should hope so," she said wryly. "After my parents died and you returned me to the Palace, it was Tira who raised me."

Haldir's eyes widened in surprise and Amdir noticed that the sunlight played off turquoise flecks in his ocean blue irises. She was unable to look away.

"You really are just as I remember you, and seeing your other side yesterday has only made you more interesting. I believe that I look forward to getting to know you again, Master Haldir."

He sat back and grinned, then looked over to her playfully. "And I you, Mistress Amdir. I feel it has been a long winter and now spring time has arrived in Lothlorien."

She tilted her head. "As in me?"

"No, the other elleth sitting beside you."

Her eyes briefly looked beside her and then she began to laugh. She remembered his playfulness, and how good it felt to be in his presence. When he spoke his hands moved, and she wondered how those hands would feel touching her skin. Could a warrior who wielded a sword with such ferocity have a gentle touch? Or perhaps his touch was anything but gentle and he held delicious ways of making her yield. She felt a blush rise up her neck and noted the amusement in Haldir's eyes, although he said nothing, he merely watched her.

"Haldir?"

"Yes?"

"I don't remember your being that…sentimental. Is that also part of your other sides?"

He chuckled. "Oh indeed it is. I can be sentimental, Amdir, be forewarned, my ferocity on the battlefield is matched only by my sentimentality off the battlefield."

"It is a wonder you get anything done in your off-time."

The two stared at each other, lips twitching, trying to appear serious, until Amdir burst out laughing, and they passed a pleasant hour catching up and making plans for the coming days.

* * *

"I don't trust him,"

"What is it that concerns you about him?"

Haldir thought carefully before he responded to Celeborn. While Uldor had answered most of his questions candidly, his instincts warned him to proceed with caution where this prisoner was concerned.

He directed his words to Celeborn but he met the eyes of each of the elves sitting around the table, including The Lady Galadriel, in turn.

"I believe his story, but he is holding something back and my heart tells me it is something worth knowing. If he is not being fully honest, he is hiding something. If he feels he must hide something, it can't be good."

"He has suffered much trauma," said the Lady of the Light. "We can offer him healing and peace, should he choose to stay."

"But therein lies the risk," said Celeborn. "He may be a spy, he may be an infiltrator, he spent time serving Maeglin and before that was raised among men who themselves are raised to fear us."

"He is half-elven," said Uiron, "surely that counts for something."

Haldir had been studying his hands, his head lowered in thought, but now he looked up. "Maeglin was full elven and in the end it counted for very little."

"I do not think the Queen or Mirkwood would say it counted for little," said Galadriel, and Haldir nodded, for she had a point. Despite his evil deeds, Queen Isobel had shown sympathy for her uncle and Haldir's ending the Dark Elf's life had introduced confusion into their relationship. Till this day, Haldir wondered if he had chosen to keep Maeglin alive, whether it would have changed the outcome of events, and he would have ended up with Isobel, rather than her becoming Thranduil's bride.

"We should at least remove the ropes," Uiron was saying, and Haldir snapped back to attention. It was not like him to lose focus in the midst of a security briefing.

"Haldir," asked Galadriel, her silver eyes shining. "What would you advise?"

He steepled his hands and exhaled. If he is a spy or an interloper as you have suggested, at least we run little risk of his running away, and even if he tried, we would track and recapture him almost immediately. I support removing his ties, but I advise he remain incarcerated until we can learn more about him and ascertain his motives."

Celebron looked at Galadriel, then nodded, the decision made. "Very well, remove the Easterling's ropes but he will remain in his cell for the time being."

The four elves rose and Celeborn took his wife's hand to lead her out to the balcony of this private office. Haldir was gathering his cloak when Galadriel paused, then turned to speak to him.

"You spent time with Amdir today."

Haldir nodded and had trouble suppressing a smile. "I did, my Lady. She brings back many memories for me, both good and bad."

"Do not hold the bad against her, for she was just a child, a child who fell very much in love with her protector."

Haldir blinked and to his horror, felt warmth flood his cheeks. "Children love without reserve, it is what makes them so endearing."

"She has grown into a lovely young elleth."

Finally Haldir smiled at his Lady. "If her Ladyship is concerned about my emotional well-being, allow me to reassure her that I am most satisfied and fulfilled with my life as it is."

Galadreil looked over to her husband, then her eyes fell again on Haldir's chiseled features, her lips curved in a small smile and she said nothing more. Haldir hurried out of the room and down the stairs towards his own flet.


	3. Open Windows

_Dear Tirathiul,_

_I hope this letter finds you in the best of health and spirits, and not too run off your feet in the infirmary with injuries and other things of that sort from the Prince and his guards._

_There is much news to report from Caras Galadhon since my last letter. I have finally met with Haldir, who returned from his sojourn to the outer marches. I asked him if it was as dangerous as they say but he said it was part of everyday work and we shouldn't think too much about it. He forgets that I grew up close to our warrior King and his son, and have a good understanding of the danger, but I said none of this in return. Perhaps next time I see him I will let him know._

_I was gratified to find him unchanged in many ways, although I do see him differently with mature eyes. For all his disarming jokes, (he is very disarming, Tira, you were correct when you told me this before and it is a wonder that he remains unmarried) there is a strength about him that I find comforting but also a ferocity that is… unpredictable. Much like our beloved King in this regard. He teases me that I am much grown, but I believe he thinks of me as more an elfling than an elleth._

_Yesterday a prisoner arrived in the city. An Easterling who is half-elven. Haldir allowed me to translate the interrogation. Despite warnings that the prisoner was dangerous, I sensed a sad...(_ Cross that out _)...I felt concerned (_ Cross that out _) ... I found him quite intrig -_

Amdir crumpled the letter and tossed it into the wastebasket with a sigh. Then she sat back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. It was barely 2 in the afternoon. Her meeting with Celeborn had gone well. He had congratulated her on her work with Uldor and informed her that she would be needed to assist in more 'interviews' to which she readily agreed, eager to make a good impression.

She was terribly curious to know how Uldor had found himself in the company of the Lothlorien guards and longed to ask him about life in the far east. Was it really as harsh as they said? It was a rare opportunity to practice her Rhun, and to hear his voice with its strange inflections.

She pulled out another sheet of parchment and dipped her swan feather in the blue dye.

_Dear Tirathuil,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I wish to tell you about something that happened to me yesterday…_

She sighed and dropped the quill, then quickly rose to her feet, almost upsetting the crystal vase of tulips on her desk. Looking around her small wooden room with its pretty canopy bed with posters of birch, and its wide windows overlooking the giant mallorns of Galadriel's garden, she felt suddenly claterphobic and decided to head down to the main path for a walk. A walk that may or may not take her near the prison area.

She paused, how in Middleearth could she explain hanging around the prison cells? A better idea: She began to walk in the opposite direction towards Liadan's flet. Perhaps her friend was available for a chat; Amdir could use a dose of Liadan's humour.

"Amdir!"

She turned and spotted Rumil jogging along the forest path to catch up with her. From a distance, it was easy to confuse Rumil with his older brother, but he had a wider face and high cheeckbones that made his eyes appear almost cat-like.

"I'm glad I caught you before you went too far. My brother requests your presence to interview the Easterling. Will you come with me please?"

Amdir straightened her shoulders at the thought of another opportunity to show Haldir her skill and to learn more about the mysterious prisoner. "Of course. Lead the way."

Ten minutes later Rumil led her into through a door in a rockface, down a flight of stairs and into a long cave lined with sconces that emitted a calming orange glow. It reminded her of Thranduil's Halls and she happily filled her lungs with the cool subterranean air.

Rumil turned to her and smiled, and she was struck by the resemblance to his brother, yet there was a unpredictability about Rumil that she imaged many ellyn would find attractive. While he operated his duties admirably, she sensed the elf was driven less by his responsibilities, and more by a deep passion for his realm and the individuals in it.

"Makes you think of home?" he said, gesturing around him, misunderstanding her sudden quiet.

She smiled. "Very much so, although only a few passageways in the Palace are like this, the rest are large and well-lit and you wouldn't know you are inside mountain caves."

Rumil nodded and paused in front of a large wooden door, then turned to her, his face serious. "He is bound, but he will be in close proximity to you. If you feel uncomfortable and wish to excuse yourself, motion to me, and I will escort you out, no questions asked."

She agreed, and together they entered a small windowless stone room where sat Haldir, Uldor and a third guard who, on their entry, retreated to a corner near the door.

Haldir offered a curt nod and motioned for her to sit at the far corner of the table, as far away from the prisoner as possible. Rumil took his place beside the Easterling who, Amdir noted, had been provided with fresh garments and a bath. His long black hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail revealing the extent of the symbols decorating his skin along his cheekbones and down his neck and shoulders. He turned his face to look at her. She was again struck by the severity of his sharp green eyes, his olive complexion and long black hair, and quickly looked away.

Haldir began to speak and Amdir immediately began to translate. Uldor's penetrating gaze rested mostly on her face, occasionally taking in her gown or her hair, she noticed that he frequently studied her lips. He only looked at Haldir when Amdir herself did, usually to seek clarification.

"The March Warden wants to know about your life in Rhun and how you ended up serving the Master of Dul Guldor."

"He doesn't waste any time, does he?"

Amdir's eyes widened at his question and she immediately glanced at Haldir who gave her a warning look. She remained silent until Uldor relented.

"My father was trying to broker a peace deal with a neighbouring tribe with whom we'd had skirmishes although never outright war."

As he spoke, Amdir listened carefully and quietly repeated his words into Sindarin for Haldir and Rumil.

"He invited the chieftan and many of his men to feast with us, but we didn't know that this man already had an arrangement with one of the Lords of Mordor, and that if my father was removed, this rival would be given leave to take our lands. My father and mother were murdered at their own table. My sister raped and her throat cut in front of me, and because of my elvish blood I was delivered to Lord Maeglin as a gift to be his slave. He took a special liking to me and for many years he forced me to… service him. The word in Rhun is nyixosh. I don't imagine it is a word you have been taught."

She fell silent, her mouth open with shock. In response, Uldor sat taller, and schooled his features to show no emotion. This ellon was a survivor.

"Amdir!"

Her attention snapped to Haldir, and she quickly communicated the story, all but the last two sentences.

"Do you wish to continue?" Haldir asked her. The look of concern in his brilliant blue eyes belied his brusque voice.

She forced a smile and nodded. "I am fine. Please let's continue."

Haldir looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. "Ask him how he escaped Maeglin's imprisonment."

She repeated the words and Uldor glanced at her briefly then his eyes stared into the space of memory.

"He let me go."

"Pardon?"

"He let me go."

"Why did he let you go?" She asked, forgetting that she was to wait for Haldir's questions, but the March Warden said nothing as he intently watched the Easterling, assessing his every word.

Uldor flicked some hair out of his eyes with his head, as his hands were tied to the table legs, then inhaled deeply through his nose. His eyes met Haldir's hard gaze and turned to stare at Amdir instead, offering her a bitter smile that unsettled her.

"Like I said, he was fond of me. More than that, really; he favoured me. He had captured King Thranduil and knew that Prince Legolas was leading an army to rescue his father. The fortress was understaffed, most of the militia were patrolling the north. I believe he knew that he was unlikely to survive, or perhaps he didn't want to. Either way, by the time this March Warden," he gestured to Haldir, "and his companion, the Master's niece, arrived, I was two day's gone. I narrowly evaded both orcs and beasts on my journey and eventually made my way to the Brown Lands, where I've survived these past years."

When Amdir completed the translation, Haldir exchanged a meaningful look with Rumil.

"And in the Brown Lands you lived a solitary life?" Haldir asked.

Amdir translated to Uldir, who paused and gave both Haldir and Rumil a long look.

"If one can make the right friends, it is possible to survive anywhere."

Haldir sat back and stared at the Easterling, who himself sat still, his back defiantly straight. "Lidon," said Haldir, addressing the guard in the corner. "Please take the prisoner back to his cell."

The guard nodded and carefully untied Uldor. Holding holding a knife between the prisoner's shoulder blades, he escorted him out of the room.

As the door closed behind them, Rumil whistled and Haldir shook his head.

"It has to be him," began Haldir. "It is a band of 30 men, thieves and assassins, feared throughout all the Kingdoms of men. Within weeks of their learning about our intent to treaty with them, we receive intelligence that their leader has gone missing, then this man – elf – arrives in Lothlorien. It is too much of a coincidence."

Rumil sat forward. "Leader of the Men of the Brown. It is hard to believe he is here. But why leave his men, why travel at all when he could send a messenger, or even come as a delegation?"

Haldir shook his head, his brows knitted. "I do not know, it makes little sense."

Amdir discreetly cleared her throat and Haldir glanced at her with a frown. "It should go without saying that you are not to speak of anything you've heard today, not to Liadan, not to anyone."

She nodded and looked away, and Haldir smiled gently. "You did very well today Amdir, I am most impressed at your skill."

She felt her cheeks warm at the praise. "I'm sure there are things I missed," she said.

He shook his head. "Not at all, you did it perfectly."

She smiled at both elves. "And how would you know? I could have been making it all up."

Rumil looked at her wryly. "It helps that we have a perfect understanding of Rhun, just as Uldor understands everything we are saying too."

Amdir gasped, then quickly closed her mouth. "But why?"

Both elves shrugged simultaneously. Brothers indeed, she thought.

"We don't take chances. It's better for us if he thinks we are ignorant, and it's better for him if we think he is ignorant. Everyone hedges. Diplomacy is a game."

"And  _this_  is diplomacy?"

Haldir grinned. "Considering we intend to negotiate with that Easterling, I'd say yes, it most certainly is."

The three of them rose, the elleth shaking her head at how little she really knew of the world, and made their way into the stone hallway which, compared to the interrogation room was dimly lit.

Rumil walked ahead but tripped over a large lump laying across the floor. Haldir grabbed Amdir, pushing her behind him and drew his blades, his eyes searching the orange light for the prisoner.

Rumil rolled the lump over to reveal the pale face the guard. "He is unconscious but otherwise unharmed." His fingers brushed an angry lump on the elf's temple, then he rose and drew his blades in a single motion.

"Uldor will be long gone from this cave," said Haldir. "Take Amdir back to her flet then meet me at the garrison office. I will sound the alarm and begin the search. Rumil nodded and took Amdir's arm, rushing her out into what felt like bright sunlight after the dark of the cave.

"Hurry Amdir, if anything were to happen to you, I'd never hear the end of it from my brother." He gave her a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring as they jogged down the path to her flet, but she was not at all assured. If anything, she was irritated that Haldir had gotten her out of the way so quickly when she would have preferred to stay and follow the action.

"Bar the door and the windows, and let no one in, no matter how hard they knock," he said, practically pushing her inside the door of her flet.

She nodded and by the time she closed her door, he was already half way down the path to meet his brother.

She moved the small silver bar across the entrance and turned the lock, then she exhaled a shaky breath and moved to close the windows, deciding on second thought to leave at least one open so she could see if anything happened outside.

"You really should close it, you never know who could crawl through."

She yelped, whirled around and, seeing the tall black-haired elf standing near her bed, shuffled back till she came up against the wall behind her.

Uldor raised his hands, palms up. "Calm down, I'm not here to hurt you."

"Then why are you here?!"

He gave her a long look then shrugged. "I had nowhere else to go, and you left your windows open. I didn't know this was your flet. That part was luck."

"If Rumil had seen you he could have killed you! As it is, they'll come searching for you at any moment now that the March Warden has sounded the alarm. And why are you speaking perfect Sindarin? I thought you only spoke Rhun."

Uldor gave her a harsh squint. "Of course I speak Sindarin, just like your wardens speak perfect Rhun."

Amdir threw her arms in the air. "Of course, forgive me for not knowing the intricate rules of diplomacy," she said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

He exhaled and lowered himself into the chair in front of her writing desk. He eyed the in-progress letter on wood tabletop and the crumpled up draft in the corner, and arched an eyebrow. "Writer's block?"

Amdir watched him carefully. He didn't seem intent on hurting her, but he was a prisoner – an escaped prisoner now – and likely a dangerous one at that. Her heartbeat was not slowing down. If anything, it was speeding up as she began to realize the serious danger she was in.

"What are your plans?" she asked warily.

"Do you have any weapons?"

She shook her head.

He snorted. "An unarmed wood elf? That doesn't seem likely."

She shrugged. "I am a translator, what need have I of weapons?"

"Given the probably of thieves, marauders and murderers coming through your window, I'd say you have a very great need."

She swallowed. "And which one are you?"

He tilted his head and considered. "All three give the circumstance,"

"Fantastic."

He shrugged. "One does what one must, and right now, I must leave this place."

Her eyes darted to the door. Perhaps she could keep him talking until the guards arrived to search her flet.

"Where will you go?" She tried to sound calm but her voice trembled.

"Home."

"To Rhun?"

"No, to the Brown Lands and my company there. They are waiting for word."

She looked at him closely. "So it is true what they said; you are the leader of a band of thieves and assassins."

His dark green eyes grew cold and she felt his contempt in the pit of her stomach.

"We are a band of free men, highly paid free men, who do honourable work."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, afraid of upsetting him further. "I don't understand your situation."

He gave her a long measuring look, and suddenly rose, retrieving the travel bag and cloak she kept in the corner. His long limbs and wide shoulders seemed to fill her tiny room and she pressed herself closer against the wall, lowering her head and looking up at him, suddenly filled with apprehension. "What you doing?"

He stuffed a round of cheese and a small blanket into the bag, barely sparing her a look as he surveyed her belongings "We'll need supplies. It's a long journey."

The implication of his words washed over her and a primal fight response kindled in her spine. There was no way she was leaving with this maniac. She shook her head and straightened up, squaring her shoulders and facing him full on. "NO. I am going nowhere with you." She tightened her fists and pressed her lips together.

He paused and turned to regard her. His green eyes swept over her, taking in her stance, and his mouth twitched in amusement. "And what does the translator with no weapons plan to do to stop me?"

For a moment she was stricken, what could she do? Then she felt a ray of sunlight warm her shoulder from the window. The window was open to the path below, perhaps they could hear her? She began to scream.

He lunged forward and pushed her back against the wall, one forearm pressed against her chest, the opposite hand pressed tightly against her mouth. She tried to turn her head but his hand was large enough to cover her jaw and he held her firm. He glared down at her with flashing eyes and teeth slightly barred, his face a hairsbreadth from her own.

"DO NOT. TRY. THAT. AGAIN." he hissed, his breath warm on her cheek. She felt tears prick her eyes and closed them tight against his glare, and she didn't open them again until he felt him exhale and the large forearm holding her against the wall loosen a fraction.

She looked up at him with teary blue eyes, round with fear, and silently pleaded with him not to hurt her. As he stared down at her, she saw something flicker in his face. Sympathy?

"Can I trust you?" he asked, and she nodded, tears spilling over cheeks and wetting the top of his thumb and forefinger.

"Will you stop crying?"

She nodded again, and slowly he released his hand and stepped back.

"That's better," he said, turning away from her to continue packing the bag. She didn't hesitate, she swung at him with everything in her, letting out a loud war cry, causing him to stagger against the bed.

"What the…" he grabbed his jaw in shock and she leapt over him to get to the door. He pivoted quickly and grabbed the back of her skirt, pulling her down and together they crashed into the desk and onto the floor. He pinioned her wrists beneath him with one hand and grabbed a corner the bedsheet with another, ripping the cotton with his mouth to create a tie for her mouth and hands. She struggled against him but he was too strong to overcome, and it wasn't until he was finished and she could neither speak nor use her hands, that she realized that she was in real trouble. The tears began to flow again and this time he ignored them.

He hoisted her up roughly with one strong arm and grabbed the bag with the other and, after a quick check that nobody was in view, half pushed, half pulled her out of the front of the flet and around the back where they quickly disappeared into the dark edge of the forest.

 


	4. You Had One Job

Haldir slammed his fist on the massive wooden table that served as a situation room for Lothlorien's main advisors. "You had ONE job!"

Celeborn stepped forward, leaning his arms over the table, looking fiercely at each advisor in turn, his face demanding silence. "That is enough, Haldir. We understand your frustration. Your brother could not have known where the prisoner was. He did what he thought was best and  _what you instructed him to do_. We will hear no more of it."

Haldir turned away from them and rubbed his forehead, then exhaled, closed his eyes, and after a moment turned back around to address his brother. "I'm sorry, Rumil, I know it's not your fault."

Rumil nodded in understanding and walked around the table to place a steady hand on his brother's shoulder. "We will find her. We will bring her back."

Haldir nodded to him and together the two elves turned expectant faces to Celeborn and Uiron.

"We know he came to explore the possibility of the treaty we suggested. Given the reputation of the Men of the Brown, it remains one we need. One that could bring not only greater protection – for the Men of the Brown are unsurpassed in stealth warfare – surpassing even our own forces, but also a great deal of intelligence about activities in Mordor. His coming to investigates tells me we are not the only ones who seek their alliance. I suspect he now travels back to that barren land to relay our situation to his men, for it is only with their consent that he will open negotiations," said Uiron.

"Then why take the elleth?" asked Rumil.

Haldir furrowed his brow, his lips a tight line and his jaw tense. "He takes Amdir as a hostage. He must have known she is a favourite of King Thranduil's. If we do not act to assure her safety, he knows Thranduil will, and of course, we would not willingly risk Thranduil's wrath either, so she guarantees the cooperation of both realms. As long as she's safe, we dare not attack, or we risk that the Men of the Brown will form an alliance with the Lords of Mordor. We cannot afford that, and having experienced our defenses for himself, Uldor knows it."

Rumil shook his head then stared at Haldir, his mouth agape. "So you would let her go?"

"The Dark Lord builds his forces against us and when he strikes, we must be ready – you know this already. We also know that Mordor seeks an alliance with Rhun, but, perhaps, with the help of the Men of the Brown, we can create that alliance first, weakening Mordor's position. So yes, we must let her go. There is little more we can do." His voice was monotone, his face unnaturally blank. The only sign of tension, a tell-tale pulse of his right jaw.

Rumil exhaled, blowing out his cheeks. "It is a rare day, when I hear resignation in your voice, brother" said Rumil, turning his face away from Haldir, frowning in disappointment. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you did not care about the elleth."

The façade fell and Haldir glared at Rumil who responded with a looked of satisfaction.

"I care about this  _realm_ , brother. All other concerns must…bide."

"Haldir is correct," said Celeborn, studying his march warden and stepping in just as Haldir's shoulders dropped. "The Easterling will not harm her, but we will be expected to follow. It seems Uldor would prefer the negotiations happen on his soil, and to that we shall acquiesce. Haldir and Rumil, you will each go to watch over the elleth and initiate the alliance. Take my negotiator, Seren with you. She understands my terms and will communicate them well. Travel alongside them, or as close as the Easterling will allow. And bring two extra horses and supplies. With luck, Uldor is not so prideful that he will turn down these gifts."

"And if Uldor is already in league with Mordor? She may be raped, enslaved or even killed."

"I'm sorry, Haldir, I know you are fond of Amdir, but it's the chance we have to take."

The march warden took a deep breath. "I will find her, we will conclude the treaty, then I will return her to Thranduil myself. By the Valar, neither he nor any of the men in that company will lay a hand on her."

* * *

Amdir stumbled over a mossy stone and fell to her knees, only to be roughly pulled up by her arms, still bound behind her back. She scrambled to keep up with Uldor less he end up dragging her along the forest floor, which, she had no doubt, he would.

The brusque, black-haired elf had barely spoke since they left the flet, but to command that she hurry up. They had been walking for hours along deer paths and through thick barely penetrable brush, and the western sun was beginning to fade, lengthening the shadows along the forest floor.

In the distance, a whippoorwill chattered to its mate and she could hear the scattering of small rodents scurrying through the roots and rocks as the two elves passed. Her feet ached and she longed to stretch her arms in front of her, and her mouth was parched with the white cotton gag. She stumbled again, and again he roughly pulled her up with her arms. She tried to yell at him through the gag but he merely shook his head in irritation and avoided her eyes. Eventually she gave up.

As the light of forest took on a dusky hue and a faint chill crisped the air, he finally allowed them a rest. She sank down on a flat rock and watched as he unscrewed his water skin. She expected him to take a long draw, but instead he carried it over to her and, releasing her from the gag with one hand, allowed her a long, luxurious drink with the other.

She sat for a moment, allowing the clean water to revive her, and catching her breath, then her attention focused on her kidnapper, who stood straight, sharp green eyes scanning the forest behind them. She opened and closed her jaw, trying to release tension built up from the gag. How she hated him.

He turned to look at her. "All right, then?"

She glared. If her hands weren't bound behind her back, she'd hit him again. The red welt on the side of his left jaw had gone down since they began their trek, but was still visible and made her feel nominally better. He must have followed her thoughts for his hand absently touched the welt.

"It was a good shot. You surprised me Amdir. I didn't think you had it in you."

She narrowed her gaze. "What kind of elf kidnaps another? Gags her and drags her through the forest like an animal? Haldir will come for me. He will come for me, and he will kill you. He's done it before, you know. The warriors of Lothlorien are the fiercest in all of Arda and their stealth is unrivalled. Just wait."

Uldor looked at her and said flatly, "He's not coming for you."

"Oh really? And what about King Thranduil? When HE hears of what you've done, you will not survive his wrath!"

He barely looked at her as he spoke. "Not so. I have something the elven realms need. Nobody is coming to rescue you, at least not in the way you imagine." His face finally turned to her, his gaze thoughtful.

She was about to protest but something in his eyes stilled her words. A steady certainty that made her stomach drop. "Why do you say that?"

The tall elf sat down on a rock close to her and lifted the waterskin to his mouth, tipping it back for a healthy swig and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Amdir looked away.

"Because you are my hostage, my guarantee that they will let me return to my company safely and there we will negotiate a treaty. A treaty that Lorien needs – and Mirkwood needs too for that matter."

"And if they attack?"

"I will kill you."

"No, I don't believe you. They  _will_  come for me. I'm sure of it."

She frowned and her eyes stared hard into the trees, as though willing an army of elves to appear, but the forest remained still. "I'm sure of it," she said more quietly, trying to convince herself, even as her confidence diminished in the face of his logical explanation.

She fell quiet and, as her eyes studied the dark brown tree boughs that latticed the velvety green canopy above them, she was reminded of the dark yet beautiful shadows of Mirkwood, and of her cozy room in Thranduil's palace.

Right now, the wood elves would be gathering in the great hall, waiting for the King to arrive. Sharp at 7pm, he would enter the hall, no doubt looking causally resplendent, with his striking black-haired Queen at his side. Queen Isobel was a story to be told. The granddaughter of the great Sinda smith Eol, an elf rumoured to be King Thingol's get, an elf who killed his own wife and whose son, Maeglin, joined with the Dark Lord. Together Maeglin and Morgoth unleashed an evil that effectively ended the First Age of Middleearth. But against the odds, Maeglin had survived the First Age, and it was Haldir who had killed him, only 35 years before. Some say that Isobel took pity on her uncle, but Amdir did not believe it.

She looked at Uldor and tilted her head. Odd. There was something about his features, as he leaned down to adjust the tie of his boots, that reminded her of Queen Isobel. Her chest tightened as she realized that there was a very real chance she may never see her loved ones again, and her eyes filled with tears at the thought of it.

Uldor looked up and caught her eyes, then exhaled impatiently. "More tears? You act as though this is the worst thing that could happen to you."

Her brows knit, indignant, as she looked at him. "It IS."

He chuckled sardonically. "I can assure, it is not. You are too sensitive. You will have to toughen up if you're to survive in the Brown Lands."

Hands bound, she couldn't wipe her eyes and wished the damn tears would dry quickly on her face, useless as they were. "Are you suggesting that I should become as hard and callous as you? Kidnapping people, gagging them and dragging them through a forest?"

He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head and, to her surprise, he said "No, it's not. You are right in that I am hard, and I am callous. And that which has made me that way I would not wish on you or anyone else. In fact, I would do what I can to ensure that what happened to me doesn't happen again. You are angry, but what you don't understand is that taking you makes this treaty possible. A treaty that could save thousands of lives. It could ensure that no one ever suffers what I suffered, ever again."

He abruptly rose and began to repack the travel bag, his face pained with memory. Amdir watched him with astonished eyes. "If you are really after this treaty, why not just say as much to Lord Celeborn?"

He snorted. "It was premature. I set out for Lorien simply to ascertain whether they would be worth our negotiating with. Nothing more."

"So to spy on their defenses."

He shrugged. "Yes, that is one way of putting it. I didn't mean to be captured; my intent was to return to my men to seek consensus before initiating an alliance, and if they agreed, invite representatives of Lothlorien to The Brown Lands to talk."

A small fly landed on her ear and she jerked her head to dislodge it, but it kept flying around her.

"Why do you require their consensus when you are their leader? Can you not make your own decisions?"

Uldor's harsh look cut her to pieces. "I do not treat my men like children, the way your Elf Lords treat their subjects. In my company, each man has an equal say. I lead them with their permission, not at my own pleasure."

She exhaled and looked to the side, tracking the fly as it flew a few feet away, then returned to explore her face with even greater enthusiasm. She glanced at Uldor. "You speak like a man, but you forget you are also an elf."

"And you speak like an elf. All arrogant entitlement with an irritating dose of ignorance."

"You forgot to add 'overly sensitive'"

"Thank you for the reminder. OVERLY SENSITIVE. You, Amdir of Mirkwood, have forgotten that you should try not to annoy me. Keep your mouth closed and I'll keep the gag in my pocket instead of in your mouth."

She burned to swear at him but wisely chose to remain silent, and left it to her expressive eyes to tell him what she thought of him and his blasted gag. The silence lasted all of 30 seconds, until the fly landed on her check and she stood, violently shaking her head.

"Can you PLEASE release my arms?!"

If he was amused or irritated at her outburst, she couldn't know, for his face remained impassively blank. "You will run," he said.

She sighed. "Please. I will not run, I just need to…move."

They stared at each other for a heartbeat, then, with a barely perceptible nod, he walked behind her and untied her hands. She immediately wrapped her arms around her shoulders, luxuriating in the stretch of her shoulders muscles.

"Better?"

She nodded and almost smiled, but caught herself in time. She was not about to thank him for untying her!

They walked throughout the night, at least another 10 or 15 miles. He still walked behind her, and he still caught her when she stumbled, but now his touch was a measure more civil, a tiny but noticeable measure, and as the dawn began to light the sky, he found a small copse of trees where the ground was covered in thick moss.

Uldor tied her hands again, but in the front this time, and left a length of rope which he tied to one of his wrists.

They laid down on their sides facing each other, uncomfortably close for Amdir, hands bound in front, sharing the warmth of the travel cloak he'd grabbed back at her flet.

Within minutes, the Easterling was fast asleep, but even in her exhaustion, Amdir was too tense to sleep. Instead she studied his face in the soft dawn light. His hair was pulled back in a single braid and sleep had caused the lines of his face to relax. His mouth was slack and long black eyelashes fluttered with dreams. His jaw was perfectly square and the angle of his cheekbone looked quite sharp from her horizontal perspective. He was, quite simply, beautiful.

She sighed and gently rolled onto her back, careful to move slowly so as not to tug the hand that was attached to hers and wake him.

Sleep made even the most hardened criminals look innocent and vulnerable. She thought about his story and looked back at him. He had seen his parents murdered in front of him, this was something she could relate to, for she could never forget the day the Orc company murdered her parents. And then he was raped for years, or perhaps it was consensual? She shook her head. No, he was a slave. It could never be consensual. And now that the elf who had raped him was dead, he had become a fierce leader of men.

It was not hard to understand why he might be hardened, where the callousness came from. But he hardly looked either of those things now. He looked nothing more than young, and harmless, and if it hadn't been for the rope, she imagined that this is how two lovers would sleep: Facing each other, hands joined between them. She slowly rolled back into him and moved just an inch closer, assuring herself it was just for the warmth, and for a few hours, she slept.


	5. Apples & Rabbits

Rumil, Haldir and Seren spent the first night well within the boundaries of Lothlorien, sleeping in one of the flets built around the perimeter of the eastern march to accommodate guards.

Uldor and Amdir were easy enough to track, given that Uldor was not trying to hide their progress, and the plan was to catch up with them the next day and provide Uldor with the two extra horses Celeborn had given them.

They were about a day's walk from where the Celebrant River met the Mighty Anduin, and from there they would traverse the Celebrant first, then follow the Anduin river south to the crossing. After that they would head south again along the river's eastern bank to the Brown Lands.

Unless, of course, Uldor had other plans.

As the sun rose over the forest, Haldir sat with his back against the wall of the flet, one knee up, trying to puzzle out the Easterling's movements, a scowl etched across his face. Across from him lay Rumil and in the opposite corner, Celeborn's skilled negotiator, Seren.

Seren's presence was positive development. The two had begun their military training together, but after a few years, Seren has switched her focus to the study of war and statecraft, trade and languages.

While their paths rarely crossed these days, he had always thought Seren was fair, and it puzzled him that she was yet unmarried, for she was always quick to greet him and his brothers with an open smile and a witty comment. In fact, there were few elves in the realm who could match Haldir's wit as well as Seren.

Looking at her as she slept curled in her bedroll, he had to admit that perhaps Seren was more than attractive. He'd simply never considered her in that way. Rumil, on the other hand, he had already caught looking at Seren several times and, truth be told, Seren seemed to welcome his attentions. The march warden sighed, it was going to be a long few weeks.

Suddenly a host of sparrows ascended from the tree next to him, the beat of their wings causing him to look up to the sky, his senses following their airborne progress. He closed his eyes, mentally scanning the surrounding area, when he heard a twig break in the distance, and the soft nicker of the horses from down below.

He stood up and peered from the side of the flet down to the forest floor. He saw the silver hair of the horse's mane first, shining through the dark green leaves, and with a broad grin, Haldir climbed down the flet, jumping the last quarter and landing on two strong legs in front of the new arrival.

"What in Arda are you doing here?" He asked, his face stamped with happy surprise to see his second younger brother, Orophin, who gracefully swung off the mount and gripped Haldir's wrist in warriors' greeting. "You must have ridden all night."

Orophin immediately began loosening the saddle, before lifting it off the sweating horse and placing it on the ground beside him. The horse wandered off to greet the other horses and drink from the stream than ran behind the felt.

"My company arrived home from the southern patrol early. Uiron filled me in on the Easterling and young Amdir. I admit, I was packed and gone as soon as my horse was refreshed, even before I could get a proper briefing."

"Ah-hem"

The ellons looked up to find Seren peering down at them, glossy chestnut hair tumbling over her shoulders, her dark blue eyes bright. Haldir smiled, perhaps she _was_  a bit more than attractive.

"Please, don't worry about waking us, continue on with your conversation. No doubt every creature in the forest is more than happy to listen…"

Orophin grinned up at her. "Seren! I didn't know you'd be here! It's a good thing, my brothers need someone to keep them in line!"

Just then, a pair of cat eyes framed in a silver mane popped up beside Seren and shot Orophin a dirty look. Rumil abruptly arranged his face into a welcome smile when Seren glanced at him.

"Can't tell you how happy I am to see YOU, brother," said Rumil, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

Haldir snorted and Orophin rolled his eyes, as Seren began to gracefully make her way down the wooden ladder. Rumil took the opportunity to mouth "Don't You Dare", to Orophin, his face again switching to a smile as Seren glanced up. Haldir busied himself unpacking some food as Rumil took another route, half climbing, half jumping down from the flet.

"What news from the south, brother?" Rumil rifled through one of his packs and emerged with three apples, tossing one to Seren who caught it easily, and throwing the other one at Orophin, hitting him in the side of the head.

"If you weren't younger and less wise, I would take you out for that," said Orophin, reaching down to pick up the offending apple and, finding it relatively unbruised, taking a large bite.

Haldir's mouth quirked at the antics of the two younger elves as he folded blankets and supplies, and his spirits began to rise. There were no elves in Lothlorien he trusted more than Rumil and Orophin. For all they were his little brothers, they were proven, battle-hardy warriors, and should they need to fight, he knew they would carry the day.

Rumil's strength was the bow, while both Haldir and Orophin excelled in sword fighting and close-range combat. He wondered how much training Seren had received over the years.

A light hand touched his shoulder and he turned around to face the lithe negotiator, who held an apple out to him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rumil watching carefully. He sighed, and with an apologetic smile, accepted the apple. He walked over to fetch the horses and Seren followed, her bright eyes scanning the forest intently.

"If we travel quickly, we could feasibly reach the Easterling and his hostage— "

"Amdir."

"Err yes, Amdir. We will likely reach them in a half day's ride. Do you expect that we will travel with them?"

He took a bite of his apple then surrendered the rest of it to the smallest mount, a dappled brown mare, gentle in disposition, but a swift runner. "What do you think, Seren?"

She shook her head. "I do not think he'd allow it. We have not established trust, and if he feels threatened, he could harm Amdir."

"And you speak to me now as you wish to warn me of the possibility. You will be relieved to know that we are of the same mind on this."

Haldir looked at her. Unlike he and his brothers who wore tunics and leggings in various shades of plain grey, Seren's clothing, while sensible, was slightly more adorned. Her dark blue tunic was embroidered with green leaves, and although plain compared to the silks she wore in Lothlorien, she appeared quite fetching, all rosy cheeked and upturned lips in a heart shaped face. Haldir's eyes fell to her arms and legs.

"Pleased with the cut my cloth, march warden?"

"Actually, I was wondering to what degree you are trained in combat, Seren."

Her smile faltered. "Not very much. I found early on that I have no stomach for it, my weapons are words. When used strategically, they are as commanding as a singing bow."

"Indeed, there is wisdom in your words, and when we arrive in the Brown Lands and the negotiations begin, I will defer to you."

She nodded, back to business. "Good. Then I will brief you on the full terms that Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel are willing to offer. As for the…Amdir. I understand you were once quite close?"

Haldir did not miss the sly sideways look. He thought of Rumil and inwardly groaned. "Hardly. I found her in the forest when she no more than 15 years old. Her parents had been murdered by a company of orcs sent by Maeglin to spy on King Thranduil's borders."

Seren raised her brows. "But she is of Thranduil's realm. Why were you so far north? Surely that is well beyond your usual territory?"

Haldir paused to remember. A tiny brown haired elfling, barefoot and dirty faced hiding in a rotted-out log. He had almost passed her by when the slightest shift in light drew his eye. She had been alone in the forest for over a week and how she had survived and travelled so far south was beyond him. Clearly, she had had the blessing of the Lluvatar to protect her from the dangers of Mirkwood. Haldir had long chosen never to marry, to commit his life to protecting the realm, and with that decision went the sacrifice of never having offspring. Yet his time with the young Amdir had been both surprising and memorable; it's odd how the charm of a lone elfling can melt a thousand years of ice around one's heart. She had been very precocious with large blue –

"Haldir, are you listening?"

The march warden's attention snapped back to Seren, who stood gazing at him, eyes slightly narrowed. He hadn't heard a word she'd said.

"Forgive me, I find myself preoccupied by the unexpected arrival of my brother and the day ahead of us. Perhaps you could brief me as we ride; I believe the trail is wide enough for our horses to walk side by side. Is this agreeable?"

The negotiator barely had time to nod, before Haldir was leading the horses back to his brothers to prepare them for the day ahead. He could not allow himself to think of the danger to Amdir's life. For now, it was best to forget the young elleth who had hidden behind his legs when presented to King Thranduil, whom she had also charmed so thoroughly, and to focus on the task ahead. It was, after all, the only way he could ensure Amdir's safety and the safety of Lothlorien.

* * *

 

Amdir awoke gently to the sound of a crackling fire. She rolled onto her back and pushed the hair out of here face, realizing with a start that her hands were unbound. High above her the green of the thick canopy brightened, barely holding back the light of a warm sun. She sat up and stared at Uldor, who was crouched over a fire cooking a small rabbit. She must have been tired indeed not to notice his absence as he hunted.

The movement caught his attention.

"Finally. I thought I was going to have you carry you on my back if you didn't wake."

She rolled her eyes and began to rise from the cloak, stretching her arms towards the sky with a yawn. "The only reason I wouldn't wake is because you'd poisoned me."

He snorted and his eyes returned to the rabbit.

Amdir's stomach growled. The smell of the rabbit was tantalizing – even if he had poisoned it, she'd still eat it. By the Valar she was famished! She neared the fire.

"Do you not worry that the smoke will give us away?" She peered into the flames and noticed that he'd wrapped tree nuts in big green leaves to roast alongside the rabbit. So, he knew his way around the forest, at least that was a comfort – provided he planned to keep her alive.

He sat back, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms comfortably around his knees. "I am not trying to hide that we are here. In fact, I want our pursuers to know. Once we reach the river and we are out of Lothlorien territory, then we will have to be more careful. But for now, there is nothing to fear. Besides, young Amdir of Mirkwood, perhaps a bit of adventure would do you some good, given that you've chosen the life of a bureaucrat, this may be your only chance."

His dark green eyes revealed just a hint of the humour hidden behind them, and Amdir held his gaze for a heartbeat, then directed her attention back to the fire.

"A bit of adventure before you decide to kill me, that is."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Last night you were so sure that your march warden friend would come for you. And now, barely 5 hours later, you have already lost faith? Well, perhaps I don't blame you. Do not put your trust in the elves of Middleearth, they know little of suffering. They choose their battles like a child chooses a toy, heedless of the consequences on others. You are better to put your trust in men. Men have more to lose, and must make the most of every minute Eru Lluvatar gives them. They can't afford to squander their honour when they know they may die at any moment. At least with me, you know where you stand."

"Again, you speak of men as though they are better than us, yet for all your bluster, you are an elf, just like me, just like Haldir."

Uldor unwrapped a few of the roasted tree nuts, plucking at the wrapped leaves quickly with the tips of his fingers, gritting his teeth as he tried to avoid their heat, and placed them on an oversized leaf, to which he added a generous piece of steaming rabbit and handed it to her.

"Yes, but I am half-elven and raised among men. My father abandoned us, gave us nothing, but my mother and her people raised me with acceptance and love. My real father, he who raised me and gave me my name, was a man, and a leader of Rhun."

"But if it hadn't been for your elven side, you would not have been kept alive. You must be grateful about that."

His eyes sparkled with resentment. "The one thing that elves never seem to understand is that sometimes it is better to die."

"Surely you don't wish they had killed you?"

He looked at her with an intensity that she felt in her gut. "The chance to die with the people you love, a single moment of pain then the relief Mando's Halls, or survive decades of rape at the hand of a psychopath. Which would you choose?"

She stared at him but quickly looked away, not sure what to say in response to this stark reference to his past, amazed that, given what he had endured, he had not become evil himself. Not truly. But perhaps he expected no words from her, in fact, it seemed that he had expected nothing from anyone for a very long time. She quietly accepted the make-shift platter with a slight nod, although she no longer felt hungry.

The tall elf began to unwrap his own meal, sucking breath through his teeth as his fingertips touched the charred leaves.

"Perhaps you should have stolen some of my utensils as well as the travel cloak," she tried to lighten the conversation.

"I think you're right. Next time, I'll remember." He gave her a rueful smile that did nothing to erase the pain from his eyes as he dug into his own meal. She slowly raised a chunk of rabbit to her mouth; hungry or not, she knew she'd need the energy for the day of travel to come.

They spoke little as they finished the meal, then Uldor retied her hands. He made no attempt to hide their camp and they continued on, quietly trekking through the green of the forest, following a well-worn path south east that would eventually lead to the Tongue, where the east-running Celebrant River met the mighty Anduin then ran south.

Uldor had explained that they would first cross the Celebrant using the rope bridge, then hike south along the west bank of the Anduin until they reached the crossing. It was a dangerous route, yet Uldor didn't seem overly concerned. Of course, now that she knew the strange elf welcomed death, she was far from comforted by his nonchalance.

* * *

 

Rumil gently held his hands over the charred remains of the campfire, feeling for heat. "I'd say three or four hours at most. At least he is not letting her starve," he added, kicking a piece of charred wood over to reveal a small rabbit bone.

"I don't trust that rope bridge. If we can overtake them before they reach it, we can leave them the horses and they can swim across." Rumil swung his leg over his grey dappled mount at sat tall in his saddle.

"Yes, but we cannot risk the Easterling thinking we've come to retrieve Amdir; he is cunning and fearless and he thinks nothing of taking life," said Orophin, his silver mount pawing at the dirt, anxious to be moving again.

"We only know his reputation and the reputation of his men," Seren interjected. "But in reality, we know little about Uldor of Rhun beyond that which he would want us to believe. I do not doubt his skill, he has engineered this entire circumstance and even now he intentionally leaves enough behind that we may easily follow, but I suspect his reputation is a necessary protection, one that he himself has perpetuated. For how else could one not only endure the Brown Lands, but emerge a leader of the most fearsome company of bandits in Middleearth? He must be feared if he is to survive."

"What would you suggest?" asked Haldir, his eyes always scanning the forest for movement, his ears ever primed for a break in the cadence of birdsong.

Seren's pretty face was thoughtful. "What if I were to trek ahead, make a wide berth around them, leave the horses at the bridge, then follow the same route back to you?"

Rumil suddenly moved his horse up. "We could not allow it. You are untrained and what if you met with a band of orcs? We know they roam the riverbanks. Tell her, brother, we will not allow it."

Haldir pursed his lips and frowned. Rumil was correct, but it was the fact that she was obviously untrained that would keep Uldor from feeling threatened if he were to discover her. Of course, the Easterling could easily take Seren hostage as well, not to mention the very real threat of orcs that Rumil had mentioned. Still, it would foster much needed trust between the two parties and it was not far for Seren to go.

"How familiar are you with this part of the forest, Seren?"

"Brother!"

Haldir glared at Rumil, but his face softened on seeing the deep concern clearly etched on the younger elf's face. "Peace, Rumil. Seren is correct. The Easterling will not take her as he needs our trust as much as we need his."

"And the orcs?"

Three sets of eyes fell on Seren.

"I am willing to take the risk," she said.

"Then we must let her," said Orophin, looking at Rumil.

"All to give an Easterling our horses? This is madness."

Haldir sat tall in his saddle and squared his shoulders. "It was Lord Celeborn's wish that we use the horses to establish trust and ensure both Amdir and the Easterling's safety to the Brown Lands. We shall fulfill that wish. Seren, make a wide berth around the Easterling, as you said, but not so far from the main road that you put yourself at risk for other dangers. Tie the horses where the forest meets the grasslands, where they are sure to be seen, then return back to us along the same route. We will not be far behind you. Do not stop to rest, and if you sense you are being followed, cut the other two horses free, and ride like the wind. Do not look back until you are once again under our protection and our bows are bent against your pursuers. Do you understand?"

Seren nodded. "I understand." Rumil grudgingly dismounted to tie the two extra horses behind Seren, then placed his hand on her calf and looked up at her. "Do not stop for anything," he said. "Promise me."

Seren looked down at him with such tenderness that Haldir felt a pang of envy in his stomach. Her saw her lips mouth the promise but her voice was low enough that only the elf touching her leg could hear the words. Rumil released her and stood back, and with a flick of her ankles she quickly led the horses into the depths of the brush.

"And now?" asked Orophin, looking to Haldir.

"We follow."

 


	6. The Celebrant

Amdir trudged along the forest path. The sun was hot, streaming through the ever-thinning canopy as they neared the verge of the forest, and warming the back of her shoulders. It was right at that point in springtime when the nights were as cold as the days warm.

The terrain was rockier now and the trees were shorter, dryer shrubs lined the pathway and she had to step carefully between outcroppings of white stone. Ahead of her Uldor walked briskly, his long legs moved with a masculine grace that was spare yet fluid, and she found her eyes tracing his broad shoulders. There was a taut muscular power to his body that she had trouble ignoring, much as she tried.

He wore his long black hair in a single braid just as she did, only on him, it made the planes of his cheekbones appear more angular, his jaw more square. The tattoos added an air of other-worldliness to his personage – he looked neither human nor elven - and no doubt they instilled great fear in his enemies. But for the generous lips to soften his visage, he presented a powerful figure who was used to control. Unlike Haldir who intentionally softened his own intimidating presence with smiles and a natural good humour, Uldor made no such efforts and the result was that Amdir continuously felt unsettled around him.

The air between them was still thick with the morning's conversation. It was hard to believe that this man had been a slave for so long, submission was not in his bones, but then, she could understand the Enemy's need to keep such a one subjugated. She wondered why Maeglin hadn't simply killed him. Had that dark elf actually been capable of love? Even love in its most twisted form as Uldor had said? She tripped over a rock and steely arms gripped her before she hit the ground.

" _Hanon le_." She awkwardly straightened up and he released her, stepping back. She normally had a much surer foot in the forest, but she was exhausted and everything about her captor threw her off.

"Be careful. The ground gets rockier as we near the grasslands."

"I noticed."

One side of his lips rose. "Another hour and we'll be at the bridge. If you can keep yourself upright at least until then, we can…." He paused and cocked his head, listening carefully. The forest was utterly silent as though even the trees held their breath.

"Get down" he hissed, reaching out and throwing her down till she lay sprawled on the rocks below her feet, just as an arrow whizzed by the spot where her head had been.

A fog of memory washed over her and she was an elfling, out with her adar and naneth, hearing the same sound as an arrow piercing her ada's throat with such speed and precision that it took a few seconds before she could register the attack. The sound of her mother's screams rang in her ears, even as she felt a strong arm cutting away at her ropes.

"Run now, Amdir, hide in the forest, I will find you! GO!"

His voice pierced the fog and she blinked. She was not 15, she was not watching her parents die; she was with Uldor and an orc arrow had narrowly missed her. He stood and unsheathed a dagger she hadn't known he was carrying, dodging yet another black tipped arrow.

As she rose he stepped in front to shield her. "Your friend is but a few hours behind, run back the way we came and remember one word:  _Aerina_. Do not forget it – NOW GO."

She stared into his steady dark green eyes, too frightened to move, and for one instant, he smiled. A smile meant to give her courage and hope, and it worked. Amdir fled back into the trees as fast as she could run.

Behind her she heard the clamor of orcs crashing through the forest and the sickening sound of many swords against one single dagger.

At first, she ran blindly in fear, but then she remembered her training in Mirkwood. While not every elf was trained to fight, King Thranduil made sure that the elves of his household knew how to flee an enemy and make their way safely through the forest.

She willed her heart to beat steadily, even as she ran, and used the adrenaline to fuel her. Her senses sharpened as her mind calculated her next move based on the terrain ahead of her. 'Always assume you are being pursued,' Thranduil had told her. 'Do not make it easy for them.'

She zigzagged as she ran, leaping over rocks and crevices that she knew would be difficult for an orc to navigate, gathering as much speed as her long elven legs would allow.

She permitted her mind to wander but once, wondering if Uldor had survived the attack, when she suddenly emerged from a copse of trees startling a horse and rider. The horse reared back violently on its hind legs, almost unseating the elleth who rode it, and causing Amdir to stumble, rolling out of the path of the frightened horse's hooves just before they landed.

She laid still for a moment, as the rider worked to get the horse back under control, then dismounted. Amdir noted two more horses trailing behind, and she shakily rose to her feet to confront the attractive elleth now approaching her.

She watched with wary eyes as the elf swept a trembling hand from her heart to her side with a slight bow. "I am Seren, I travel with Haldir, Orophin and Rumil. We were tasked with following you to the Brown Lands both to keep you safe and to negotiate with Uldor of Rhun."

Seren's voice tremored and Amdir thought she recognized her face from her time spent in Celeborn's court.

"Haldir is here?"

Seren took in Amdir's dishevelment, and she frowned. "Yes, in a manner of speaking. Why are you alone? What has happened?"

"Orcs. They attacked us – up ahead, and Uldor fights alone. They will kill him."

"We must get you out of here."

"We must help him!"

The elleth looked at her with sympathy. "Amdir, if he fights alone, he may already be dead, or perhaps my party has already reached him."

Amdir opened her mouth. "But how can that be? How closely have you followed?"

"We have been closing the gap all day. I took a different route but the warriors are close by. They may already be aware of the attack, but either way, you and I are not trained to fight, and we must leave now. One of these horses was meant for you, choose which one you like and we will let the other go. Choose now."

Amdir squeezed her eyes closed, then opened them and took a breath. Seren was correct, and she was offering Amdir the only chance she had to escape. She looked at both horses. One was a tall gelding, midnight black, a warhorse. The other, a smaller dappled brown and white mare that looked much safer. She nodded and swung her leg over the dappled brown mare. Seren quickly cut the black horse free. "Return home" she whispered to it and the horse dutifully turned and trotted away.

Seren wasted no time remounting.

"Where will we go?" asked Amdir. The sound of clashing swords grew louder, someone was fighting back and her heart surged with hope. Seren glanced back then turned quickly to face Amdir.

"The brothers must be there. Come, Amdir! We must cross the river now, they will catch up!"

There was no time to debate as the two elves took off in a run, creating in a wide circle around the combat area, careful to stay concealed as long as possible before hitting the grasslands, then sprinting at the top speed towards the river. She leaned low in her saddle urging her horse on, and ahead of her Seren raced forward, a cloud of dust and clods of dirt flying behind her horses' hooves.

Amdir looked back only once. In the distance, she saw black clad figures laying on the ground, and around them the fighting continued, but instead of a single tall slender warrior, she saw four, one dark haired, three silver, each holding their own. Relief flooded her veins, he would be safe, he would live.

Amdir turned around and placed her cheek against the horse's neck, tangling her fingers more tightly in the brown and white mane; already the roar of the river filled her ears and ahead she could see the bank of the Celebrant. The horses slowed down as they descended the north bank and neared the rushes that lined the river's edge, before coming to a complete stop.

Down river, she could see the rope bridge, swaying gently in the breeze. If only they could find another way to cross with the horses! She stared ahead at the quickly flowing water with trepidation. It was at least 70 meters across, a daunting proposition under any circumstances. She could tell it was shallow in spots, white V's cut through the water where rocks interrupted the fast-moving current, but in the other spots, dark blue shadows promised a deeper, more treacherous crossing.

"Is there nowhere else we can cross?" she yelled at Seren above the din.

Seren's face was blanched, for all her willingness to take control of the situation, Amdir could read real fear in her eyes. The negotiator gave the warriors in the distance a long look and turned back and surveyed the water. "This is our best chance. We have to cross now."

Slowly, she urged her horse forward, and it stepped cautiously into the cold mountain waters of the Celebrant. Amdir followed suit and within a few steps, the water was up to her knees, a few more steps, her thighs. A few more steps, and both horses began to swim, fighting to cross the current, huffing to fill their lungs with air. The two elves floated above the saddles, and swam to the side of their mounts, hanging on to the slippery leather reins as they each kicked furiously to remain attached to their horses and not be swept downstream.

Amdir kicked with all her might. Swallowing generous gulps of water, she fought to keep her head above the surface. Swimming was not her strong suit and she was weakening; her arms and legs ached and she had no feeling in her fingers where he held onto the reins. The dappled mare cast a nervous eye at her as she swam steadily on.

They crossed the center mark and suddenly the horse's hooves hit the river bottom and the animals hauled their weight back over their legs. While Seren was able to remount, Amdir simply lacked the strength and she remained beside the horse, eventually finding her own footing amongst the stones and weeds of the riverbed, and she stumbled alongside the mare up to the rocks and reeds of the bank, gasping for breath, her legs barely able to carry her.

Once safely beyond the reach of the water, she dropped the reins altogether and laid back against the riverbank, resting her head on the grassy slope, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, Seren stood above her, handing her a water skin that she gratefully accepted.

"What now?" Amdir asked, breathless. The sun was still bright although late in the day, and the land above them flat. They were hidden only as long as they remained low in the river's trench.

Seren sat down heavily bedside her, pulling her legs up and bowing her head over her knees. Her jaw was slack and the remnants of panic still registered in her eyes. Amdir realized that Seren likely had no more experience with these matters than she did and she sighed, catching Seren's sharp glance.

"Don't give up so soon," Seren said. "Just because we are untrained does not mean we are unwise. If we can travel quickly, we'll be fine. We only need to keep ourselves safe until the others catch up."

"And if they don't?"

Seren paused, then took a fortifying breath. "We travel to the brown Lands ourselves and begin the negotiations."

Amdir's brows rose. "Without an escort? We'll never make it."

The latent panic in Seren's blue eyes was replaced with determination. She leveled her steady gaze on Amdir. "Yes, we will. We must. Lothlorien needs the Men of the Brown's support and we will do what we can to get it. You're a translator and I'm a negotiator. We have everything that we need between us."

Amdir looked around her. "Except a sword or two."

"We will simply have to travel carefully, only during the day when orcs are less active, and hide carefully at night. Are you in?"

A breath of wind lifted the stray hairs from her cheek and she thought of Queen Isobel, who, before arriving in Mirkwood, had often traveled alone between Lothlorien in Fangorn. Of course, Isobel had been well trained to deal with orc kind and traveled with her black sword at her side. She took an audible breath and her head swiveled in Seren's direction.

"Well, I'm sure as heck not going back there," she raised her chin to the opposite bank and quirked a smile at Seren.

A wide grin lit the other elf's face and together they rose and collected their mounts. Already the blankets tied around the horse's backs were beginning to dry and a flush of excitement kindled in Amdir's heart and began to warm her. This was an adventure; a quest and, though the danger was real, she was ready to do her part.

* * *

 

Haldir wiped the sweat from his brow. By the Valar these orcs were heavy! The worst part of any battle was piling and burning the dead. Bred for war, these orcs were all muscle and hatred. Even their blood held the odor of evil and the elves only handled them as much as necessary. Haldir shivered in disgust at the black blood coating his hands.

They'd come across Uldor just as he'd been captured by this dark company. One of the orcs had recognized him from his time at Dul Gudor, causing some confusion about whether he should be killed or delivered to the Dark Lords of Mordor, and giving Haldir, Rumil and Orophin the time they needed to surround the company and launch their own attack.

The orcs had fought surprisingly hard. They were better trained these days, stronger and more confident as though fueled by a hidden force.

The elves went about their work quietly. There was little to say. Rumil and Orophin eyed Uldor with suspicion. What Uldor thought was impossible to tell, the elf kept his emotions shuttered, his face blank, but he was doing his part, grunting with exertion as he pulled another orc body into the stinking pile.

The black-haired elf had fought with a crude orc sword, thrown to him by Orophin, and Haldir had to admit that he fought with courage and cunning. His style was less elaborate than the Galadhrim, his attacks blunt, direct and lethal.

Haldir slanted a curious eye at him. He did not trust this Easterling, but his heart told him not to make assumptions. Something was happening here, something important that needed to happen. Haldir preferred to prepare for his missions but he recognized when fate was unfolding and knew from experience that it was pointless to resist. He acknowledged Uldor with a brisk nod that the other elf returned.

"Are there any more?" the Easterling asked, and Haldir shook his head.

With a grim set face, he struck a flint and a small flame landed atop the dry grass and pine needles the elves had stuffed between the bodies as kindling. The fire started tentatively at first, but quickly gained momentum and within a few minutes black smoke rose from the pile and stench of burning flesh was unbearable.

The elves quickly found their horses. Beside them stood an unexpected site: A familiar black gelding that Haldir recognized with some concern as Celeborn's gift to Uldor. Rumil's eyes widened in fear and his face sought Haldir's. Haldir nodded to him as though to say 'later', and together the elves turned their backs on the unholy bonfire, and led their mounts towards the river where hopefully they'd have time to wash the blood from their tunics and regroup.

Haldir walked beside Uldor. "What happened to her?"

The Easterling kept his eyes in front of him, tracking Rumil and Orophin who remained uncharacteristically quiet after the attack. Orophin was favoring his right shoulder and Haldir narrowed his gaze, scanning his brother for injuries.

"She was unhurt," Uldor replied. "I cut her bonds and sent her back, hoping she'd run into you." He hazarded a glance at the march warden.

Haldir frowned. "We were directly behind you when you were attacked, as you well know, but it was the right thing to do, and I believe she is not alone."

Uldor's eyes widened fractionally. "Why?"

"We sent our negotiator, an elleth named Seren ahead with two horses. One is the horse you lead now; it was meant for you, a gift in good faith from the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien, and the other was meant for your hostage,' his lip curled slightly as he said the word. "Seren obviously cut this horse free – his name is Ithil – but not the horse intended for Amdir. There is only one explanation."

Uldor looked back at his mount thoughtfully. It was a noble, well-bred beast with proud bearing. He looked swift and Uldor wondered if he was battle trained as well. "There are many explanations,' he said flatly. "But if that is the explanation you will choose, then I have no reason to dissuade you."

Haldir did not miss the fleeting look of approval in Uldor's face when he studied the horse. For all his nonchalance, the elf was well pleased with the gift.

"Would you not rather choose a path of hope, Easterling?"

"I am Uldor, son of Ulfang, and I gave up the path of hope a long time ago. There is little hope in the lands beyond the borders of your home,  _elf_. Change is afoot."

The elves walked until they met the river bank then carefully managed their way down the steep slope to the water. Orophin awkwardly pointed downstream, clearly in pain from the action, and the elves gathered to see. "The reeds are trampled there and on the other side too. I'd say the ellyn already crossed and cannot be far. If we cross now, we will catch up to them easily."

"The sooner the better," said Rumil. "There is no shortage of orc raiders in these parts and now we have two unarmed, untrained elves, who should never have been here to begin with roaming the countryside." He leveled a withering glare on Uldor who merely blinked and looked bored. "This is YOUR fault, Easterling." Uldor remained silent but smiled at Rumil with malice.

"Enough!" said Haldir. "We all know why we are here. Uldor,  _son of Ulfang_ , we will accompany you to your home so that you may consult with your men and there we shall negotiate – and conclude – a treaty between our two lands. The safety of the ellyn is paramount. Amdir not only serves as your guarantee, but she is a skilled translator, as you saw, and Seren is the only one aware of Lord Celeborn's terms. Without her, the negotiations will not take place. Thus we will work together' (he leveled his gaze on Rumil) 'until we have found both Amdir and Seren safe, and this damned treaty is complete."

He exhaled through his nose and closed his eyes, wanting to throttle the dark elf standing in front of him, knowing he couldn't, tired of always taking the high road. But warrior that he was in both his body and his heart, he mastered his emotion and concluded with a curt nod to Uldor, then Rumil, and a slightly warmer glance at Orophin (thank goodness for Orophin, always even tempered).

He noticed then that his brother's face had taken on the whitish hue of birchbark. Haldir stepped forward and put his hand on his brother's arm, just as Orophin collapsed into the grass. Haldir caught him and lowered him gently, as the younger elf began to convulse. When he took his hand away, it was covered in blood, not black orc blood, but fresh red elven blood.

"He's injured." Haldir laid him back against the grass and began to examine him as Rumil rifled through their supplies gathering healing materials.

Haldir began to rip open Orophin's sleeve. "No," hissed his younger brother through chattering teeth. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow.

The march warden peered at him in concern. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, but it's my lucky tunic…"

Behind them Rumil snorted. "Lucky indeed, it looks like you were brushed by an arrow that, by rights, should have killed you." He returned, dropping down beside Haldir with cloths and ointment.

"Don't be disappointed, brother. It still might…" Orophin gasped as Rumil began to clean the wound.

Uldor knelt beside them and inspected the wound to the elf's upper arm. The flesh around the opening where the arrow had nicked his skin was hot with an angry black swell around the edge.

Haldir watched the Easterling carefully, realizing that Uldor had seen wounds like this before, although given the Brown Land's proximity to Mordor, that was hardly surprising. Dark green eyes looked up and caught Haldir's stare. No words passed between the two warriors, but they each knew what the other was thinking. Orophin has been nicked by a poisoned arrow and needed help immediately or he would die.

"I cannot return," Haldir said, his voice was low and his eyes flicked to Rumil's. " _You_  must take him back now."

Rumil blanched. "But Seren is out there alone. I cannot leave her...them."

Haldir stared at him, imploring him. "You must. Orc poison spreads quickly, there is not much time."

The younger elf's eyes widened in alarm. "Poison…"

"You must go now."

Rumil's eyes fell on the Easterling and his lips curled in contempt. "YOU! You are the cause of this!" He rose in fury.

Uldor stood up with a look that fell somewhere between boredom and resignation, and the two elves faced each other squarely.

"If he dies, I will kill you myself!" Rumil spat.

Uldor looked up at the slightly taller elf and raised an eyebrow. "If he dies, it's because you spent his remaining time trying to fight me rather than getting him to a healer," he said, making fists with his hands, widening his stance and shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet.

Rumil looked ready to leap against the Easterling when Haldir intervened.  _"DARO, RUMIL!"_

Rumil froze in his tracks. His brilliantly angry eyes lingered on Uldor's face as the rest of his body turned to face his brother. When he finally met Haldir's gaze, his face fell, and Haldir stepped forward in sympathy placing his hands on the young elf's arms. "I will find Seren and Amdir and keep them safe. I make you this promise. I will protect Seren from harm and return her to Lothlorien. But right now you must return our brother to Caras Galadhon or he will die."

Rumil took a deep breath, valiantly working to master his rage. "Of course I will." He looked up into his brother's eyes, and Haldir gave him a tight smile filled with suppressed emotion. "I know." He squeezed Rumil's arms and held his forehead to his brother's, then stepped away.

Rumil walked back to Orophin and he and Haldir gingerly lifted the injured elf off the ground while Uldor led Orophin's silver mount towards them.

"He will have to ride in front," said Uldor and Rumil glared at him.

"I know," the silver-haired elf replied testily. "I am not merely a bandit, I have been to war many times." Uldor blinked but said nothing.

"Do not mind...him," winced Orophin, his laboured speech directed at Uldor. "He's just mad...cause i'm... taking... him away from... his sweetheart..."

Rumil mounted first then the other two elves lifted Orophin to sit across the saddle in front of him. By now Orophin's face had taken on a greyish tinge and the elf had stopped talking. Haldir had tied the wound but still blood seeped through. If poison didn't kill Orophin, blood loss might.

Haldir grasped Rumil's shin, and looked up at him. " _Ego, Rumil! Galu._ "

Rumil nodded and with the slight squeeze of his shins, the horse took off across the grassy headland, past the burning pile or carcasses, and disappeared into the woods heading back to Lothlorien.

Haldir took a deep breath and rubbed his neck as he turned around to face the Easterling. "Thank you for not fighting my brother," he said flatly, then he walked with stooped shoulders towards his own horse, pressing his face against the horses' neck and running his hand down the animal's long nose.

Uldor said nothing and Haldir appreciated the Easterling giving him some time to gather his thoughts. He pictured Amdir wandering the grasslands across the river with only Seren for protection, and it filled him with a sense of foreboding. With another deep breath, he pulled himself together and straightened his back, pushing the fear to the back of his mind and embracing his duty.

"The sun is low and soon it will be dark, it is too dangerous to travel at night. We should camp here," said Uldor.

Haldir looked over his shoulder at the smoldering bonfire and his lip curled in disgust. "No, first we will cross the river. I cannot suffer that stench any longer."

Uldor nodded and the two elves led their horses downstream to where the reeds were broken from an earlier crossing, then made their way across the river. By the time they reached the other side, the two elves silently made camp. There was no need to speak to each other. They were each exhausted and focused their remaining energy on making camp and falling asleep.

 


	7. A Dislocated Sense of Security

"It's true. He spends at least 4 hours in training every day. The rest of the time he spends with advisors or signing documents."

Seren shook her head. "I don't understand why a king must spend so much time in training, doesn't he trust his soldiers?"

Admir looked at Seren and laughed. The two elves rode their horses abreast so they could talk and Amdir had, over the course of their first day travelling, found she enjoyed this witty ellen's company. They had established a pattern. For a time they'd walk in single file across the grasslands, eyes alert for movement on the horizon, following the river south west.

Then either Seren or Amdir would ask a question or two. They each had an impressive grasp of Middleearth geography and between the two of them, they barely needed a map, but they often consulted in that cooperative way elves have when trying to demonstrate friendship.

The question would, naturally, spark a conversation that helped to pass the time until the elves realized they had best pay attention to their surroundings, at which point, one or the other would drop back and they'd each be left to their own thoughts.

"He's been king a long time, I suspect he knows how to manage his schedule, plus it helps that he employs a large staff."

"Of which you'll be joining next year?"

Amdir's eyes shone with hope. "If all goes well and Celeborn's report is favorable…"

Seren snorted. "You know it's going to be favorable. I heard you did a wonderful job translating during the Easterling interrogation."

Amdir opened her mouth to say something, then fell quiet and Seren looked over apologetically.

"I wonder where they are. Perhaps they did not fare as well as we'd hoped," said Amdir, chewing the inside of her cheek.

Seren sagged in her saddle momentarily, then pulled herself up tall. Still, her tooth bit into her bottom lip and a frown creased her forehead. "I hope..."

She paused, and Amdir looked at her expectantly.

"I have a bad feeling..." she went on. "We have been travelling for at least eight hours and no sign of them. I thought they would be here by now and I admit, I'm worried. What if they fell and any minute now, we're going to see a band of orcs? And they  _will_ kill us, that I am sure of."

Seren's eyes had begun to take on that panicked look, and Amdir frowned. Neither of them could afford to indulge in fear, not right now when they needed every ounce of focus they had to survive the task at hand.

"Peace Seren. While your worry is not foolish, it is not yet necessary. When we last saw the ellyn, they were holding their own and we know they fight much better than a troop of orcs, even well-trained orcs. It would take a much larger unit than what we saw to beat the likes of Haldir, Uldir and Orophin."

"And Rumil."

Amdir nodded. Seren looked calmer now, and as she listened, she stared west towards the great river. They could not yet actually see it, but they knew it was there, somewhere beyond the last roll of the grasslands. "Yes, and Rumil. If you are anxious for them, we could make camp and wait."

Seren sighed. "It is a risk. We could easily be waiting for a band of orcs as a band of elves. No, we should keep moving. They will find us if they can. If not, I have a responsibility to negotiate this treaty."

Amdir sat taller in her saddle. "And I will help you."

Seren smiled, then her face sobered as her eyes focused on something ahead of them; Amdir turned to follow her gaze and saw the unmistakable form of three figures on horseback, silhouetted against the bright sun. She whispered a curse under her breath.

"We cannot go back north," said Amdir, turning her horse around to survey the direction from which they'd come. "And besides, they may be elves."

Seren squared her jaw and narrowed her gaze. "They are no elves. It's as clear to you as it is to me. They will be Men of the Brown, looking for their leader. They will kill us as soon as capture us. Ride East, Amdir, we will head towards Fangorn! Ride!"

The two elves took off in a sprint across the field, and, in the distance, the three figures also took off in pursuit. Amdir leaned low in her saddle, urging her horse forward, but every time she looked back over her shoulder, she could see the three riders closing the distance. They wore black clothes, with dark scarves wrapped around their heads and faces, and their horses were tall and sleek, travelling at an almost unnatural speed, moving in a cloud of dirt and dust towards them.

Amdir was grateful for her little dappled mare. It was small, but quick and fearless. Ahead of her Seren's larger brown steed was running in a straight line, picking up speed to jump a small creek. But just as the steed should have launched, it reared back, throwing Seren in a dangerous summersault over its head and landing her squarely in the creek.

Without thinking Amdir halted her run, jumped off her horse and rushed into the shallow water, hopping over slippery white granite stones to reach the downed elf. Seren tried to rise on her arms and legs, only to sag back down in the water as her shoulder gave out.

"Are you injured? Can you ride?"

Seren exhaled and winced with pain, then looked up at Amdir, stricken, her shoulder hung unnaturally low. "I don't think so. My arm won't work. Amdir, leave me – ride to Fangorn. Go!"

Amdir looked back at the riders. Even if she could bundle Seren onto one of the horses and ride, they could not outpace the dark riders now.

She inhaled deeply and leaned forward to support Seren under her good arm as the elf tried to hoist herself from the stream, leaning heavily against her. Amdir could feel Seren trembling, and she half-lifted half-pulled her to the small bank, where both horses stood, heads raised, nostrils flaring as the dark riders approached, surrounding them from three sides.

One rider jumped from his mount to collect the two horses and Amdir watched him with spiteful eyes.

The other two dismounted and the tallest approached. He was dressed head to toe in black riding clothes, coarsely woven. Around his narrow waist he wore a dark grey sash where he kept a myriad of daggers and at his back hung a finely carved bow. A black scarf obscured most of his face, save a pair of bright obsidian eyes, lined in coal, that raked over the two elves, resting momentarily on Seren's wounded shoulder.

"What is your business?" he asked in Rhun. Seren looked at Amdir in confusion, but Amdir merely took a deep breath and answered him without hesitation, meeting those dark eyes with her own steady gaze.

"We are lost. We were separated from our party when we were attacked by a band or orcs to the north."

The man's dark eyes widened in surprised at her immediate grasp of the language. He exchanged a look with his companions.

"How is it an elf speaks Rhun?"

She raised her chin. "We are elves, we have been multi-lingual since the days before men awoke."

A glint of laughter shone in the dark rider's eyes. "Your names?"

Amdir looked at Seren, who stood as tall as she could; it must have taken an enormous amount of strength. "I am Ferwen," she said with what she hoped was a strong, convincing voice. "And this is my companion…errr..Egwen."

Seren blinked and Amdir shot her an apologetic look.

"Your companion, Egwen," again the dark eyes looked amused "is injured. We will see to her then escort you to our camp."

Amdir's face paled. "I thank you," she nodded her chin, "but we would prefer to travel alone back to our home."

He tilted his head as he regarded her. "Which is…?"

Amdir bit her lip desperately trying to think of an answer, any answer..."Fangorn."

"Fangorn?"

"Yes."

"You _live_  in Fangorn?"

"Yes."

"I thought you said you were lost, Fangorn is due east from here."

Amdir stared at him, her eyes wide with fear as she realized she'd blown their cover. Seren, peered at her, clearly trying to figure out what had happened.

He turned to look at his companions whose eyes also wrinkled in laughter. "I had always thought elves to be superior navigators, but no matter. You are clearly not warriors and so unskilled at the art of deception that I cannot imagine this to be the task the elf lords have put to you. It is a three-day ride to our camp and you and…Egwen…must be presented to our leader so we can decide what we will do with you. Aea, fix her shoulder."

The man who had collected the horses came closer now and Amdir noticed with a start that these eyes were a softer brown, the face finer and unlined.

"Please step away," the dark rider said to Amdir in a voice that was low, but clearly female. "I will help your friend," she said in accented Sindarin and Amdir, having no choice but to allow this, nodded.

"Come." The leader flicked his hand at Amdir to join him, but although she gave the woman space, she was determined to stay by Seren's side.

The women inspected Seren's arm and shoulder, her touch gentle and swift. "It is dislocated. Sidu, would you stand behind her? She will need to brace against something."

In an instant, the third rider came and stood behind Seren's back and together he and the woman, Aea, lowered Seren to a sitting position. Amdir watched with interest, as Aea unraveled her face scarf, revealing an attractive olive toned face with high cheekbones and full lips. Her black hair was braided behind her back and, even with her almond-shaped brown eyes, she was struck by this woman's resemblance to Uldor. The man now kneeling behind Seren was a study in contrasts with light gold eyes and a few strands of yellow hair peeking out from the folds of his face scarf.

The leader came to stand beside Amdir, his proximity and presence making it clear that she was going nowhere, even without his overtly restraining her. She did her best to ignore him and kept her eyes on her friend.

Every time Aea touched Seren, the elf winced and drew back. Aea gently held the arm at a 90-degree angle, "Lean back against Sidu. He is strong, he can take it." Aea gave Seren a small smile and Seren, sweat beading on her brow, acquiesced and allowed the large man at her back to support her. "This is going to hurt, but then it will feel better,"

Aea's voice was low, smooth and soothing. As she spoke she gently pivoted Seren's arm forward, all the while holding her upper arm with her other hand. Seren nodded and clenched her teeth against the pain as Aea slowly moved her arm one way, then another. The elf remained silent but gasped loudly as the bone popped back into its joint with a loud snap. She closed teary eyes and collapsed back into Sidu with a shudder; he held her weight easily. She took a few deep breaths then seemed to remember their circumstance and sat forward, then with great effort, she rose. She rubbed her shoulder and looked at Aea. "H _anon-le."_

Aea stood up, and used the length of material that she had worn around her face to make a sling for the injured arm. "It will hurt for a time but it will be fine in a few days," she said as she secured the sling against Seren's chest and Seren nodded.

"Give her some wine," said the dark-eyed leader and Sidu retrieved a wine skin from the side of his horse, and offered it to Seren who quickly downed a few swallows. Then to Amdir, who, despite the dryness of her throat, declined with a brush of her hand. He took a drink himself before returning the skin to his horse and motioned for Seren to mount; she would be riding with Sidu, while Amdir would ride ahead with Dark Eyes. Aea tied the two horses to her own reins so that they would trail behind.

Amdir scratched her head and discreetly pulled out a few hairs, letting them fall to the ground where they caught on a patch of sagebrush, easy enough for Haldir to find. The man didn't seem to notice.

"I will tie your hands if I must," he was saying, "but hopefully I do not have to, for perhaps your own wisdom will tell you that leaving with us is safer than travelling these lands alone, without weapons, without even the skill to use them."

He paused and Amdir looked at him. The man had a point. With a sigh of resignation, she nodded and put a slender foot through his horse's stirrup then hoisted herself onto the saddle, shimmying back to make space for Dark Eyes, who also mounted, but not before bending down to retrieve the few hairs wrapped around the sage and putting them in his pocket. "They are not the only ones searching for us," he said. She looked back to Seren and was met with the disconcerting picture of her friend's ashen white face, resting against Sidu's broad-shouldered back, eyes closed in pain.

"Do not worry for your friend. She will be fine. Now hang on tightly, we ride hard." To demonstrate his words, the man's legs squeezed the horse tightly and the horse sprung to action in a fast gallop, the other horses following closely behind.

* * *

 

Haldir carefully inspected the front hoof of his large bay horse and pursed his lips. Right there, a large dark red bruise. The horse had clearly stepped on a rock or pebble the wrong way while fjiording that river. To ride him now would not only cause the horse pain, but would almost guarantee the bruise grew into abscess.

He dropped the horse's foot heavier than he should have and the horse raised his head quickly in response. Haldir instantly felt guilty, it was hardly the fault of the animal.

He rose and patted the horse's neck and soothed it by whispering smooth voiced reassurances. Eventually the animal's eyes calmed and his ears lowered. Haldir rested his forehead, eyes closed, against its mane for a few moments, then took a deep breath, straightened, and turned to face to his unlikely travelling companion, who stood a few strides back, watching anxiously, eyebrows raised.

Haldir shook his head. The horse was lame.

"Feanor's bollocks," Uldor pressed his lips together and shook his head, the curse earning a hard stare from Haldir, who was already removing the horse's bridle.

It was early morning and the two elves were packing up, ready to begin their pursuit of Amdir and Seren. The dark dread of the night before was surrendering to the creeping purples and reds of an early morning sunrise and in the shallow part of the river, stood six great blue herons, silent and proud, undisturbed by the activity on the bank opposite them.

"We will use Ithil as a pack horse and go on foot."

"Nonsense. I will ride ahead on Ithil. I will move more quickly without you to weigh me down –"

Uldor's next words were cut off by the tip of Haldir's gleaming silver sword almost touching his nose. The metallic ring as Haldir drew it triggered flight in the herons, and the sound of great grey wings beating in the air fell between the silence of the two elves. Haldir raised an eyebrow. "You will do no such thing, Easterling. You will guide me to your camp, and there we shall conclude the treaty that the Lord and Lady desire. Then you will return Amdir to me."

Uldor exhaled an irritated breath. He had no weapons save one short dagger and Haldir well knew that the Easterling likely preferred to treat with Lothlorien over Mordor. Haldir lowed the sword a fraction so that it now pointed at the dark elf's throat. "Well?"

"It would seem that the tip of your sword has made my choice for me," Uldor replied dryly. "If this is how the Captain of the Lothlorien Guard negotiates, our need to find Amdir and her companion is more dire than ever."

"Understand this, Uldor of Rhun, I have no love for you, or for your people. You come into my home on a spying mission, lie about your intent, kidnap she who is like family to me and put her life in peril, and all to manipulate us into following you to the Brown Lands. Now thanks to your foolishness, my brother fights for his life while two unprotected and untrained ellin have all but disappeared! They could be dead for all we know. What in Mandos Halls is the matter with you?"

Uldor's eyes flashed. "Do not speak to me of foolishiness. At least I have the wisdom to travel quietly, without an entourage, and without drawing the attention of our enemies to the business at hand. You on the other hand, with all your brothers and elven fanfare. Has it not occurred to you, march warden, that there are some who are opposed to our even having this conversation, and would do everything in their power to stop it? If I am foolish, it is because I expected the elves of Lothlorien to at least have the common sense to follow me with some discretion!"

Haldir blinked, stunned at Uldor's belingerance – and accuracy. He looked down. Uldor was right. The Easterling's way had been smarter and he, himself, had ruined it. Alerted Mordor that negotiations had begun. If it hadn't been for Uldor, Amdir would be safe in her flet. But if it hadn't been for him, at least she'd be safer with Uldor than she was now, wandering the grasslands alone. He exhaled slowly and lowered his sword, turning away from the dark elf.

"Peace, Haldir O Lorien," Uldor said, quite unexpectedly. "We both equally at fault, and should anything befall Amdir and the other you speak of, we will shoulder the guilt equally. Yet there is little more we can do that we are not already doing, and the truth is that I need you in the Brown Lands quite unharmed and it is best that we travel together. And besides, I have grown used to our interrogation sessions together. I would miss you if I were to leave you behind."

Haldir looked hard at Uldor, then glanced at the sky and shook his head, but sheathed his sword and began to tie the two bedrolls onto the large black gelding. "Your concern is touching."

Stepping back a touch to ensuring more than a sword's lunge between him and the march warden, Uldor tied his own bedroll and began to gather their food supplies. "My sensitivity knows no bounds."

The silver march warden slanted a look at his black-haired companion but said nothing. A moment later the corner of his mouth twitched.

Uldor, not missing a thing, pressed his advantage. "The journey is four or five days from here and dangerous. There is not much cover, and once those orcs fail to report back, more will be dispatched. We would fare better if I too had weapons."

"If you had weapons, I would likely be killed in my sleep."

Uldor shrugged. "This is true," he said nonchalantly and continued the clean-up, while Haldir returned to his own great bay horse and urged it to wander north, finally dismissing it with a gentle pat on its rump. The horse slowly walked back towards the river and Haldir watched it go with regret, a sliver of anxiety inching its way up the back of his neck. Feanor's bullocks indeed (where did the Easterling learn such curses?) On foot they were unlikely to catch up to the ellin at all, and the thought of Seren and Amdir entering the lands of the Men of the Brown unprotected filled him with apprehension.

He studied his companion. The Easterling was intelligent and had proved himself in battle. His humour was unexpected, as was his compassion. He did cut Amdir free, saving her life, and while Haldir would not admit it aloud, for this act, he was beyond grateful. He watched as the elf reached his arms up to adjust Ithil's reins and something struck him. He wasn't sure if it was the graceful way the Easterling moved or perhaps the set of his jaw, but he put Haldir in mind of Isobel - Queen Isobel – he reminded himself. He narrowed his eyes. In truth he was not sure what to make of this strange half-man half-elf. Unlike the Peredhel in Rivendel, Uldor acted more man than elf; his manner uncouth, his mind cunning. But below his bluster, there was a fluidity in his thoughts and movements, a distinctively elven way of interacting with the world that, no matter how much the dark elf tried to suppress it, was part of him as surely as it was part of Lady Galadriel or Lord Elrond. Beneath Uldor's tattooed exterior, Haldir sensed a strong character and wondered what there was to be learned from this strange character.

"We are ready," Uldor said. The sky had brightened and the heron had returned to the river although a distance away. Haldir nodded curtly, eyes scanning the sweep of grasslands that followed the curve of the river infront of them, and the two elves began to make their way south, Uldor leading the black horse behind them, and Haldir keeping his hand on his pommel, just in case.

* * *

 

Dark Eyes' name was Lor.

That night Amdir and Seren huddled with the three humans around a large fire.

"Are you not worried the fire will attract the orcs?"

Lor glanced at Amdir, his eyes reflected the warm orange glow of the flames. Earlier on he had removed his headwrap and Amdir was surprised to see his dark skin was covered in tattoos similar to Uldor's that ran down his cheekbones, jaw and neck. His long black hair formed tight curls that he pulled back in a bun behind his head.

The group spoke mostly in Sindarin, and when they switched to Rhun, Amdir quickly translated to Seren. There were surprisingly well-equipped for a small group with both weapons and travelling supplies industriously packed within the folds of their garb. Sidu had disappeared for a few hours earlier on, and returned with a string of rabbits that now smelt delicious as they roasted over the open flame.

Of all the humans, Amdir was most interested in Aea. Unlike Lor, her hair was straight, and she hadn't' noticed it before but along Aea's bottom jaw were the same tattoos, but the artist had made the markings finger and more feminine. Swirling birds and leaves that worked their way into her hairline just below her ears. Her calm steadiness was contrasted by Sidu's jocularity. The blond man had no tattoos on his face, and the jokes he told in Rhun were heavily accented. He glanced at Aea often and when he did, his eyes softened, his adoration was clear.

"I am more worried about repelling wolves than attracting orcs," Lor replied. "The latter are easy to fight, the former more of a challenge."

Amdir looked glanced towards where the horses were tied at the far end of their camp, and Lor read her worried eyes.

"The fire should create a safe circle wide enough to protect the horses too," he said, and Amdir nodded.

"How much longer to the crossing?"

Lor exhaled and leaned back on his arms. "No more than a day, but it will be dangerous. The river is high this year with much rain. It will be harder than your crossing the Celebrant."

Amdir blinked and her mouth opened. "How did you know we crossed the Celebrant?"

Lor stared into the fire. "We were expecting you."

She stared and he glanced over and met her eyes with a small chuckle. "Do not look so shocked, young elf, you travelled with one of who is dear to us, and we follow his orders well."

Amdir looked at Lor. "So you know…" her words trailed off.

"Your names? Yes Ferwen. We know your real names. We know much about what happens in Lothlorien, and your story has become somewhat of a legend. The elfing who survived the dangers of Mirkwood. We admire your courage."

"Courage? I was so young, just a child as you men would say. It had nothing to do with courage, I was just extraordinarily lucky that Haldir O Lorien found me."

Lor sat back and

"Who is Uldor? Why is he so important?"

Now Sidu spoke. The angles of his handsome broad face were cast in shadow from the firelight.

"Uldor is our leader, without him the Men of the Brown would be nothing. We would most likely be dead, but Uldor has given each one of us a new life, pride, and a family to protect us. Each one of us came to the Men of the Brown for different reasons. I once had a family, you see, and when they were massacred, Uldor's men found me standing at the top of a cliff face, half-delirious and ready to end mylife. They returned me to my right mind and named me Sidu. Gave me these clan marks so that I would forget my old life and embrace the new. A man's life is not like an elf's. We have little time and we must find meaning in that small space of 80 years. For a human to lose their meaning is the greatest of tragediess; to have that meaning restored is the greatest of gifts."

"But how can killing and thieving be meaningful in the way you describe?"

Seren's head leaned heavily into Amdir's shoulder, and she realized the wounded elf was asleep. She gently lowered Seren's head to rest upon her thigh. Meanwhile Sidu smiled at her question and Aea and Lor looked thoughtful.

"Our work is honourable work. There are many human settlements close to the Brown Lands and on the edge of Rohan. The dark lords or Mordor are mobilizing, constantly dispatching small bands of soldier orcs to gather intelligence. These orcs care nothing of men, think nothing of burning peaceful villages, and slaughtering women and children as they go. Our work is to fight back, to protect these villages as best we can, and if we can't, to exact a revenge on Mordor that instills so much fear in their armies that they will think twice."

As he spoke his face transformed from friendly to fierce, his eyes glinted with cold anger and his mouth formed a hard line. Aea leaned over and touched his arm and Sidu blinked, his guard falling as he glanced into her eyes. He took a deep breath and looked back to Amdir from across the fire.

"This must be why the Lord and Lady wish to treat with you."

At this Lor laughed cynically. "Perhaps in part, but the reason that your colleague Seren accompanied your friend Haldir, is because our leader is not only half-elven, but he was the adopted son of the King of Rhun's brother. Though his father is dead, Uldor was once held in great esteem and the King mourned his elven's nephew's disappearance for a decade. We believe that if Uldor was to return to Rhun, he would wield great influence. Traditionally Rhun has fought for the Dark Lords of Mordor, and our people have been well-rewarded for their loyalty, but the King's commitment waivers in the face of the violence and cruelty we have also suffered at the hands of Mordor. We know that it is only a matter of time until Mordor moves against the whole of Middle earth. And who will fight? The last battle for Middle earth was won by the elves, but your time draws to a close and this battle will be determined by men. Our time is coming, and a treaty with us is the first critical step to having the Easterlings stand with the elves and free men of Middle earth in the battle to come."

There only sound to be heard was the hissing and crackling of the fire as Amdir and her companions fell into silence.

Lor's words weighed heavily on her spirit. She had heard Thranduil's advisors speak of this in whispers while in public, and behind closed wooden doors, she had overhead the voices of heated debate laced in anger and fear. The man's explanation had the sharp ring of truth about it, and, not for the first time, Amdir wondered how she had gotten mixed up in this. A pair of dark green eyes flashed in her mind. When Amdir first saw Uldor in that Lothlorien cell, she knew there was more to the elf than he let on. Haldir eluded to it, but never could she have imagined that the strange elf wielded such influence. Enough clout to turn a kingdom.

Around her the humans were finishing their meals and tidying their camp. Sidu rose to take the first watch as the others arranged their sleeping rolls in a tight line with Seren and Amdir in the middle. Amdir laid with her back to Lor, facing Seren. The night was warm enough and she watched glowing sparks leap high into the air from the campfire.

Beside her Seren mumbled something about Rumil in her sleep, and she saw Aea rise to join Sidu at the edge of the camp. Amdir could hear soft voices and strained to hear more of the conversation.

"…but if the Dark Lord wishes it…" (Aea was saying)

"…cannot promise…lives at risk... no trust in a negotiation…"

Beside her Seren moaned in her sleep and the two humans on watch fell silent, then resumed their conversation with lowered voices. Amdir felt a prickle of apprehension. Lor has said they were taking her and Seren to their camp, but they could just as easily be taking them to some Easterling or Mordor lords. Was it all an act? For all their talk of honour, Amdir had hear other stories about the Men of the Brown. Mercenaries who followed a trail of gold rather, caring only for the wants of the highest bidder.

It was common knowledge that Lothlorien was the one place in Middle earth where the Enemy could not see in to. The Lady Galadriel had woven a spell of protection so strong that Sauron himself could not overcome it.

She felt disconcerted that, despite the appearance of chance, these humans knew exactly who they had captured. They were ten steps ahead at every turn. How much, she wondered, would the dark lords of Mordor pay to interrogate Lothlorien's lead negotiator and one who was like family to the King of Mirkwood? Amdir opened her eyes to see the silhouette of Aea standing by the fire, the woman's face turned to look at the two elves as though in thought.

She pulled her blanket tightly around her shoulders and tucked her hands under her head. Whatever the dangers were, she and Seren had to escape and ride back north to find Haldir. It was the only answer. Rather than sleeping, she set her mind to devising a plan.

 


	8. The Anduin

The next day the small party of five travelled swiftly towards the crossing. Seren's shoulder was much healed – a fact that delighted Aea and had her marvel at the healing speed of elves - and she rode her own mount, albeit one-handed. The two elves rode behind Aea, and behind them rode the men.

The dark riders didn't speak much as they travelled, preferring to keep their focus on their surroundings. They had only stopped a few times to rest the horses and eat, and each time Amdir and Seren had tried to wander off under the pretense of making water, only to be corralled back to the group by either Lor or Sidu.

Amdir's eyes restlessly scanned the landscape behind her, still, after all this time, hoping to see Haldir's silver hair in the distance, not allowing her hope to dwindle, and she noticed that Seren seemed to do the same.

As they neared the crossing point, her anxiety grew. She must do something to escape, but what? She felt utterly helpless, and, as a breath of wind lifted her hair, she took an audible breath and once again, looked around.

Although the day had been sunny earlier on, the sun had now disappeared behind ominous looking clouds and the wind was picking up. Over the last few hours, the landscape around had transformed from soft grasses to a dryer brush and rockier terrain.

There were still only a few trees here and there they could use for cover either from enemies or weather, and she found that she missed the forest more than she would have thought possible.

They had been following the edge of the expansive river since morning light. Despite Lor's concern that the water was high, the river meandered slowly, and its currents appeared gentle, at least on the surface. Lor rode up ahead to confer with Aea, and the two elves took the opportunity to walk side by side.

"We need to continue on," said Seren, her eyes glued on the two humans riding ahead.

"Do you trust them?"

Seren nodded. "I do. But you do not. What is it you fear?"

Amdir shot a wary glance behind her, where Sidu met here gaze, his face unreadable.

"I fear they are going to sell us to one of the dark lords who will interrogate us for information."

Seren shook her head, her brows beetled in thought. "It is a possibility, but no, that is not what my heart tells me. For all their coarseness, I think they are honest. After all, they did fix my shoulder and I do not know why they would do that if their intent was to cause us more harm…"

Amdir's reply was cut short when Lor hung back to join them. "The crossing is up ahead. Can you see it? Where that lone tree marks the horizon. That is the lowest point in the river."

Both elves followed Lor's gloved finger with interest as he pointed to a small gnarled tree in the near distance. Here the river was divided by beige and silver tracks of sand and stone that emerged from the riverbed to create a delta like appearance.

Amdir could see that someone had strung a heavy rope line to traverse the river. She had seen a similar pulley system used to move supplies across the Celebrant and even Thranduil used a similar system to cross certain points along the Forest River. Sometimes, in times of heavy rain, travelers would tie themselves to the rope to ensure a safe crossing despite unsteady currents.

"Do elves swim?" Lor asked. "Those pockets between the islands are deeper than they appear and the current moves swiftly between them."

"We have been swimming since before the days when men awoke," Amdir replied tartly.

A suppressed smile touched the edges of Lor's full lips. "Of course you have. Nonetheless, we will tie you to the rope. It is safer that way."

Amdir bristled. "We are not elflings, there is no need to treat us so."

Lor's brows raised. "You are not in charge here, Amdir of Mirkwood. That honour lies solely to me, and as my hostages, (now he included Seren in his gaze), you will do as I bid you." His look brokered no debate, and without a second glance, he turned his horse and trotted behind the elves to talk to Sidu.

"He is like a pirate," hissed Amdir.

"A pirate who would keep you safe," reminded Seren. "It will be easier if you cooperate," she said, and Amdir caught the note of faint reproach in her voice.

She bristled, but arranged her face carefully so her irritation did not show. Seren, after all, had enough on her mind. "This is why you are the negotiator, and not me," she said, and Seren closed her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.

They gathered near the edge of the water and the party slowly dismounted. The men and Aea unpacked the largest kits from the horses and, as Amdir had expected, began to tie them together and hook them onto the rope pulley. Close up, she could see that the current was indeed faster than it had looked from a distance and she shared an uneasy glance with Seren.

"You see? It is good that we will use the pulley to go across, and it's safer for the horses too. They do better without us," said Seren calmly, and Amdir shook her head at the elf's never-ending capacity for self-possession.

Ahead of them, Sidu stood at the edge of the eriver, his face turned north, his eyes staring into the distance. The others came up behind him and he turned around to address Lor. "Something is not right here, I can feel a disturbance."

The hairs at the back of Amdir's neck rose and she craned her neck to hear the men speak.

"Shall we hold back?" asked Lor, and at first Sidu said nothing, then he turned to Lor and replied "I do not know. The water is calm, we have had no rains since we crossed this river a week ago. Perhaps I confuse my instincts with my imagination."

Lor pursed his lips. "I would not question your instincts, Sidu. They have served us well since you joined us. I feel it too; this space feels unsettled, I believe that the sooner we cross the safer we will be."

Sidu nodded to his leader, although his face remained troubled. He turned around to the address the other three.

"We will ride the horses across but I will attach you each to the pulley. It will save you if you are caught up in the current and allow us to pull you to safety. This river is bigger and more powerful than the Celebrant. Even with all your strength to swim, you will need the ropes should you lose your horse."

Seren and Amdir nodded and allowed Aea to tie their wrists to the pulley, leaving enough line that they could still use their arms freely. Amdir was surprised when Sidu carefully hooked up Aea to the pulley as well.

The men led the way, with Seren, Amdir and then Aea following behind. Without exception, the horses were nervous, ears flat against their heads as they carefully trod into the mighty Anduin. The water was much colder than the Celebrant had been, and Amdir gasped as it bit into her feet, shins and rose as high as her upper thighs.

But unlike the Celebrant, in this section at least, the river was shallow enough that the horses had no need to swim. Still, remembering her last crossing, she tangled her hands in her mare's mane tightly.

She heard the rumble first, like a slow steady sound of thunder far off in the horizon. She looked ahead at Lor in alarm, who had also noticed the disturbance.

The party paused, and upriver, Amdir saw a sight that stilled her blood in horror. There, hurtling towards them, was a tall, shimmering white line, roaring, tumbling, surging. A catastrophic wall of water. The level of the river suddenly receded as though rushing backwards to join the great wave and a moment later, Lor and Sidu turned to the women, their faces white, their expressions stunned with the recognition that they were about to die.

"GET OUT!" they yelled, but there was nowhere to go. Ahead of her Seren kicked into her horse but they could only move so fast in the water, and before Amdir could take another breath, the massive wave engulfed them, ripping away horses, gear and the two men. The water slammed across the fjord ferociously pulling Amdir under the water and downstream until a violent tug on her wrists held her in place.

The weight of the rushing water held her down and, as she held her breath, she prayed. Please Eru, please let me survive this. Just when she thought her lungs were going to exlode and she had to take a breath, the pressure of the water washing over her subsided, and she kicked to bring her head to the top, grabbing at the ropes for traction.

She surfaced into the chaos of a flooding river. The water was black from the land it had ripped away and it carried tree trunks and debris that careened dangerously around them. Drowned animals and loose rocks floated by in the angry current. Looking upwards, she began to haul herself along the pulley which, miraculously had survived the onslaught of rushing water. Ahead of her, Seren's head bobbed up and she could see the elf inching along the line in a similar fashion. Over the roar of the water she heard Aea yell, "keep going", but of the men, there was no sign.

Amdir concentrated on the sound of her heartbeat and the cadence of her breath. Slow down. Breath. Move. Downstream, the banks on either side of the river were collapsing as the wave gouged a new path, then suddenly, as quickly as it had come, it was over and the river returned to calm.

The three continued across the fjord in silence and clambered up the newly cut bank on unsteady legs. "Sidu! Lor!" screamed Aea, falling to her knees as the bank continued to crumble and shift beneath her.

Amdir forced her up. "We are not safe here, we must get to higher ground!" but Aea refused to move and it wasn't until Seren came to help that the woman surrendered with agonized wails for her lost lover and friend.

By the time they reached the upper bank, Aea's sobbing had subsided and the three sat down in shocked silence, their eyes taking in the carnage, except for Aea, who lowered her head against her knees.

"We must search downstream," said Amdir and Seren nodded.

"Yes."

"They may have survived, we must check."

"Yes."

Amdir looked at Seren who had begun to shiver violently. Recognizing the signs of shock, she looked around for something to keep Seren warm but there was nothing. Below her she spied the large bag of gear, still attached to the pulley, hanging above the river. They would need food and warmth, and if she could get that bag, they'd have both.

The thought of venturing near the river again filled her with dread, but before she could overthink it, she shoved off the ground and headed back down the hill.

"What are you doing?"

Amdir looked back as Aea raised her head. The woman stared at Seren, then, comprehending the situation, rose. "I will help you."

"If you can retrieve the bag, I will search downstream."

Aea nodded and began to make her way back down the bank, her movements mechanical, her eyes bleak. Amdir turned away and followed a path along the higher edge of the bank where she had an expansive view of the river. She walked for what felt like an hour when she spotted a familiar dappled animal washed up on the bank in a spot where the water eddied.

She rushed down the incline to her horse, pausing and approaching it more slowly when she realized the mare lay utterly still in death. A calm feeling disassociation washed over as she touched the horse. She felt no sorrow, no fear, only the knowledge that she must continue. She looked at the other debris that had gathered but there was nothing familiar to salvage, save a coarsely woven face scarf that she carefully gathered, ringing the water out of it. Except for the scarf, of the other horses and men, there was no sign.

Reluctantly she turned around and travelled back along the bank in the direction she'd come. She could not feel the shivering cold of her limbs, nor the ache of her quivering muscles as she labored over the unsteady earth, nor the pain in her heart at the thought of the lost men. She welcomed the numbness of residual shock like an old friend.

She was still a distance away when she saw smoke from a campfire where she had left Aea and Seren, and her heart lifted a measure. If Aea had made a fire, that meant she had gotten the pack and Seren would be warm.

She quickened her pace and, for the first time felt the discomfort of her damp clothes and realized she was anxious to reach the fire. She needed to be dry. As she neared the camp, she suddenly stopped. Sitting around the fire with the women were two men. One light, one dark. She exhaled in relief; they were safe! They had survived! She began to jog, then stopped again. Something was off. The hair on the taller man was not yellow; it was silver, and the darker man had long black hair in a single braid down his back…

By the Valar, he had come for her. He was here. "Haldir!"

At the sound of her voice, the march warden rose quickly and turned to her, his mouth open with relief as he stared at her for a moment before jogging out to meet her.

She had meant to throw her arms around him, to sag into him, to thank him for coming to save her, and his expression told her this was his expectation too, but she stopped short an arm's length in front of him and stared at him as her numbness suddenly melted allowing a ferocious surge of anger to break through.

"How you could let him take me?! Why didn't you stop him?! I trusted you! Where were you?!"

Haldir flinched and his face fell. He raised his hand as though to touch her but quickly dropped it. Shaking his head, he tried to explain, he said "Amdir, it wasn't like that… I couldn't—"

"Why not?! You let him! You didn't care…those men  _died_  out here, Haldir! And where were you?  _Where were you_?"

The words turned into sobs as the expression of her fear, shock and terror wracked her body, and Haldir did not wait. He stepped forward, folding her into her arms, and, after a few half-hearted attempts to push him away, she let him. He held her to him, like a child, lowering her gently to the ground, until her sobs gave way to a softer cry, and the softer cry to a few hiccups, and when she returned to herself, she found her cheek pressed against his chest and his arms around her, his hand smoothing her hair, and for the first time since she'd left Caras Galadhon, she felt safe.

"Why didn't you come for me?" she asked again, quietly. She went to pull away but he held her tighter and she relaxed into the warmth of his body, realizing that she was no longer shivering.

"I wanted to, I tried," he murmured into her hair, "but we had one delay after another. Orophin was injured, then my horse went lame, we have walked for almost two days without rest to find you and Seren, and when we saw the water rise, and the pack hanging above the river, we thought you were lost. I am so sorry, Amdir. I should have listened to Rumil, I should have saved you at once, to Mandos with this blasted treaty. I'm so sorry…"

"We?"

"Uldor and I."

"Uldor is here?" She pulled away and looked into Haldir's face, barely noticing the blue smudges of fatigue under his eyes or the lines of tension around his mouth. He is alive, she thought to herself. Uldor lives…

She began to rise and Haldir rose with her, gently supporting her. Then she stepped away from the march warden and, wiping the tears from her eyes, spied Uldor's dark head, sitting close to the fire, speaking softly to Aea much in the same manner as Haldir spoke to her now. Beside him sat Seren, a mug of hot tea in her hands, and wrapped in a bedroll, staring blankly into the flames.

"He survived," she said, and Haldir looked at her carefully. "He did. We saved him."

"Thank you," she breathed and, as Haldir's face puzzled after her, she left the march warden alone to join the others.


	9. Into The East

Amdir settled herself next to Seren, close to the fire. It was larger than it needed to be but even in the late afternoon sun, it's warmth and dryness was a comfort. A reprieve from the smell of wet earth.

As she sat down she locked eyes with Uldor, and her stomach flipped as he nodded his head. She nodded back then managed to tear her eyes away from his and turned to Seren who had barely acknowledged her; the negotiator continued to look into the fire with a blank look on her face that concerned Amdir.

"Can I do anything for you?" Amdir whispered into her ear, and Seren merely shook her head, but for a moment, she glanced up at Amdir gratefully then returned her gaze to the fire. Amdir sighed. Poor Seren. One could only hope that her obvious shock lessened the pain from her shoulder.

They were about 200 meters from the river, yet Amdir wondered if they were not, perhaps too close. What if another wave came? What if it was bigger? Her heart began to quicken and Uldor's head bobbed up as he looked at her curiously. She refused to hold his gaze. While she was angry at Haldir for not retrieving her, this entire debacle was down to Uldor and his backwards approach to this treaty. What a fool. And now he had the death of two of his own men on his conscience…she paused and looked back over to him.

His skin was pale, and his frown set deeply in his face, his normally full lips compressed into a thin line. His brows knit closely together and his shoulders were tense, even as he held Aea's hand. She was wrong to think of him so, for it was clear that this dark elf felt every bit of the guilt Amdir has just placed on his shoulders, and she felt badly for him.

The group sat in silence for some time, and at some point the light had faded into darkness and she hadn't noticed. Above them, clouds obscured the starlight and the stench of saturated ground and damp cotton filled her nostrils. Her tunic had retained the moisture of the river in the inner lining and the effect was cool, clammy and miserable. She shifted her weight and was contemplating wearing it inside out when Haldir came up behind her and handed her dry clothes.

Praise Haldir! She raised her face to his, and the sheer sight of him filled her again with relief. She lifted the sides of lips in thanks, but the small frown on his own lips did not change.

"These will be big, but they will be dry," he said simply. He eyes flicked away from her.

She nodded and accepted the clothes, then moved behind the party to change. Meanwhile Haldir settled himself on the other side of Aea, and set a pot over the fire to boil tea.

"Lor was a good man," Uldor said, out of the blue, and the others raised their heads and nodded.

"And Sidu," said Aea quietly.

"And Sidu. We will suffer the loss of their skill and their friendship."

There was a prolonged silence as each one sitting around the circle of flame considered Uldor's words, then Haldir reached out to stoke the fire with a long branch. "What I don't understand is the cause of this flood. The north of the river is prone to flash floods this time of year, but not this far down river. This was no act of nature, there was deep magic behind it."

Amdir shuddered, and the movement attracted Haldir's glance.

"Aea, drink," said Uldor, urging her to accept the tea he offered, but she waved it away. Instead she looked to Amdir. "Did you find anything?"

Amdir rose and handed her the woven black scarf. "I walked for an hour but there was nothing, save this, caught in an eddy." She kept silent about the horse.

Aea reached up for the scarf which was now dry and unfolded the material with reverence. "This belonged to Lor," she said. "I gave it to him as a gift many years ago."

"Did you weave it yourself, sister?"

Amdir's eyes widened and she stared hard at the two. She had noted the resemblance before, but to see them together, the similarities were obvious. Aea was the female version of Uldor, except for her brown eyes and smaller stature. She understood that Uldor was half-elven, still, it was strange to consider that this human woman was his half sister. No wonder he considered himself more man than elf.

"No, but I did weave one for Sidu," said Aea. She looked at Amdir with hope, but Amdir shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I only saw one."

Tears welled in Aea's brown eyes, and Uldor tightened his arms around her and drew her into him. Amdir looked away. The force of the water had washed the bodies of the men and the other horses far from sight, along with trees and great swaths of land along the bank. The power of the massive flood wave was uncanny, but very real. She felt tears well in her own eyes but quickly blinked them away. Now was not the time.

Amdir returned to her spot beside Seren, who had been quietly following the conversation. She slipped her hand into Amdir's. "We survived," Seren said quietly to Admir who responded with a small squeeze, then Amdir looked over to Aea. "We three were lucky. I'm sorry I couldn't do more…"

Aea wiped her tears away, then untangled herself from her brother's protection and rose. She walked around Uldor and sat down on the other side of Seren. "We each did all we could. How is your shoulder?"

Seren smiled weakly. "It hurts."

Aea nodded and the three females fell quiet, but each took comfort in the other's presence, and Amdir again looked at Aea curiously. For an elf with little experience with humans, Amdir was developing a deep respect for the bronzed skin woman who looked so difference from her, but seemed to think in a very similar way.

Uldor caught Amdir's eye as he handed Aea a wineskin that'd been lying at his feet. "I did not know that I would see you again," he said quietly, and Amdir saw Haldir's head raise to listen.

"Why not?" she countered.

He shrugged. "Alone in this wilderness… If Lor had not found you…"

"If Lor had not found us, Seren and I would have made it to the Brown Lands alone." Her voice was strong and, on the other side of the fire, Haldir quirked a smile. Her eyes returned to Uldor. "Yes, we survived, but no thanks to you. No thanks to either of you."

At this, Haldir's face sobered and both men lowered their gaze. The march warden stood up to retrieve the remaining food that he and Uldor carried with them, and to rummage through Lor and Sidu's packs for more.

Seren leaned into Amdir. "Well said,  _mellon-nin."_

They ate a small supper and retired as soon as they could unpack the bedrolls. Aea agreed to take the first watch with her brother, and Amdir volunteered to take the second watch with Haldir. All but Seren agreed that Seren needed the extra sleep to heal her shoulder and was thus exempt from guard duty.

Amdir's heart was heavy with the death of the two men and the horses, and she was simultaneously relieved and agitated at the sudden appearance of the ellon. She had convinced herself that she'd never sleep again, but by the time her head hit her bedroll, she had proven herself wrong.

She awoke to a gentle shake of her shoulder and the scent of Haldir filling her nose. Sweetgrass, leather and green leaves momentarily replaced the stench of boggy earth. She wiped her hair away from her eyes and levered herself up. The night was chilly and Haldir handed her a light blanket and held her elbow as she stepped out of her bedroll and into her boots.

Beside her Seren was sound asleep, and Aea and Uldor were preparing their bed rolls. She couldn't see their eyes in the dark, but she imagined the two were exhausted.

She yawned and followed Haldir beyond the warmth of the fire and perched herself on an outcrop of rock, pulling her knees up under her chin. Haldir stood away from her, his eyes piercing the darkness, scanning each direction. Finally, his face turned to her, his demeanor was a touch hesitant. She had knew shaken him with her words earlier, she had amends to make.

"Come sit with me, Haldir," she said. He joined her on the rock, but was careful not to touch her. They were silent for a few minutes, listening to the crack of the fire and the stillness of the night. Clouds obscured the stars and, were it not for the firelight, Amdir would not have been able to see her hand in front of her face.

But as it was, she could see the curve of Haldir's cheekbone and the elevated bridge of his straight nose that began just below his browline. He raised his chin then turned his chest and head to face her directly.

"I'm so sorry," he began.

She shook her head. "I am sorry too. I don't know what came over me, I was so happy to see you and then, all of that just fell out of my mouth. The fear and the anger… and yet all I wanted to do was hug you and be safe with you. I am grateful you are here, Haldir. I should not question why you were not here before. I am sorry for it."

At this he took a deep breath in and filled his cheeks before exhaling. He shook his head slowly as he began to speak, as though turning the events over in his mind. "We were right behind you all the time. We didn't believe he would hurt you, but we didn't want to put you in danger by following too closely, so we kept a steady distance. After the attack, the Easterling and I set out to find you and Seren, but Rumil was badly injured – Orophin rode with him back to Caras Galadhon - then my horse went lame and we had to travel on foot. By the Valar, Amdir, I have never been more frustrated. Had I but an eagle at my behest…"

She bowed her head to hide her smile. "I have not forgotten the stories of your adventures. If you had an eagle at your request, it would be well worn out."

The march warden granted her a smile and bobbed his head. "True enough, Amdir."

He was silent for almost a minute and when he spoke again, there was passion in his voice. "I will make you a promise. I will never let anything happen to you again. As an elfling, I had to surrender you to Thranduil's care. I didn't want to, but Mirkwood was your home, and you needed your kin around you to heal. Plus, you had the King's special protection and I could not deny you the opportunities that his favor could afford you, opportunities that I can see you were savvy enough to take. But had this not been the case, you would have become my ward, and I would have seen to your education and raised you. But now that you are grown, I can say this to you and it is neither inappropriate nor impossible. I will never let anything happen to you ever again. I know this has shaken your trust in me, but I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

She tilted her head. "Even if it goes against the orders of your Lords?"

He paused for so long that Amdir had quite given up on a response and was already pulling away from him.

"Even then," he breathed.

She gasped quietly. Duty was everything to this warrior and this was not a comment made lightly. Even in the dark she could tell those striking blue eyes cast upon her were earnest. Haldir never said anything he didn't mean; he was careful like that. She leaned forward and touched his arm. "I would never make you."

He said nothing, so she continued. "I understand why you didn't come for me directly. I always understood it, I suppose I just thought…I don't know, it was childish, but I understand now why you couldn't come and I trust that you wanted to, and now you are here and my trust in you is stronger than ever."

He bowed his head. "It was almost too late."

Her hand still rested on his arm and now she squeezed it, feeling the hardness of his muscles even at rest.

"But it wasn't. Had you come earlier, you would have been swept away like Lor and Sidu. You are my oldest and dearest friend. I am glad you were not there, Haldir."

He was silent for a moment, then she could see the shadows creasing around his eyes as he smiled. "And you are my youngest friend, but no less dear."

She laughed quietly and leaned against him comfortably. It was an intimate gestures of sorts, but Haldir did seem taken aback. Amdir took it for granted that he smiled, and besides, his shoulder was just the right height for her to rest her head on. They stayed silent for the rest of their watch, staring carefully into the night until the sunrise appeared and the elves and Aea rose to continue their journey to the Brown Lands.

* * *

The morning was cool and the sun shone thinly through thick clouds. Beyond the grasslands, Amdir could spy the dark green of a low treeline, and beyond the trees, the land rose steeply in brown and grey peaks.

She started as she heard Uldor's voice behind her. "Beyond those trees is the Brown Lands."

She turned her head to look at him. He stood tall, his black hair was pulled back in a neat braid accentuating his sharp cheekbones and square jaw. His dark green eyes left her face and focused on the horizon.

"I can see that," she replied sharply, and his eyes returned to her, and she stepped away creating some distance. He stepped closer and she raised her eyebrows. "Is there something you would like to say?"

Uldor's eyes darted back to the rest of the group and Amdir followed his gaze. The others were busy packing the kits that Uldor's horse would carry, and discarding that which was too heavy to carry on their backs. She heard Haldir laugh at something Seren had said, then she turned back to the elf standing beside her. It bothered her how he studied her face without shame, and that his kept his own face unreadable but for a glint of hardness in his eyes.

"If you are waiting for an apology, you will wait a long time. Still, when we arrive at camp, it will be easier if our relations are friendly."

"Friendly…" She mulled over the word. "I have a hard time believing that you seek my friendship."

He exhaled with impatience. "In that you are correct. Friendship between us would be unlikely for a number of reasons, but I do not wish for tension; it will not help. We will be cordial?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I do not remember your being cordial when you bound my wrists."

"But perhaps you found cordiality in my unbinding you to save your life."

She blinked and looked away. She could feel his eyes boring into her and finally she released a breath. "Fine. I will be so."

He nodded curtly then turned on his heel and returned to the others. She watched him go. His shoulders were broad and his waist narrow. He was only a head taller she was but there was a gritty strength in his movements. A directness that she understood to be the way of men. Cordiality in unbinding her hardly counted when he had kidnapped her to begin with! He turned around and looked at her, and she gasped at being caught staring, quickly looking away and feigning sudden interest in the material of her leggings, but she could not resist casting her gaze back up at him. Again his green eyes studied her, taking her measure, and to her absolute horror, she offered him the smallest of smiles. One side of his lips quirked up and he turned around, leaving her staring after him, her cheeks afire.

"Amdir!"

Haldir's voice tore her attention away from Udlor. She quickly walked to him. "Your own clothes are dry. Do you wish to change before we depart?"

She looked down to the large green tunic Haldir had given her the night before. It draped loosely over her shoulders and the bottom of the long tunic ended almost at her knees. He held out the tunic, vest and leggings she had worn yesterday. The mere look of them brought back the terror of the flood wave and she quickly shook her head. "Do you mind if I wear these another day? I know they are large, but they are comfortable and I am not concerned with how I look."

Haldir's eyes were warm as they skimmed a single bare shoulder the peeked out from the overly wide neckline. "It fits you very different than it fits me, but it is not wholly unbecoming…"

She laughed shyly and accepted a small sash from him that she tied around her waist. She briefly caught Uldor's eye and looked away. She noted Haldir's eyes following and narrowing for a moment.

"He asked me to be cordial with him."

Haldir brows lifted and his mouth pursed as though considering the request. "And can you be that?"

She shrugged. "Yes, but is it truly necessary?"

Haldir lifted her pack and helped draw her arms through the wide shoulder straps then adjusted the ties across the top of her chest. "It's not necessary, but it would ease our negotiations. Your at least appearing to forgive him would lend support to the message that Lothlorien feels the friendship of the Men of the Brown is important. It would be helpful."

She looked at him earnestly. "Yes, but he makes me nervous. How can I trust him after what he did? He tied my wrists and he was very cruel. I truly felt that I was in danger. I do not like being in his presence. He unnerves me and he makes me feel…" her voice trailed off. Haldir tilted his head towards her, urging her to finish the sentence. "And he makes you feel…?"

She exhaled harshly. "I don't know, I don't like him, but you are right. I can be cordial if it means we get home faster."

Haldir smiled at her and tipped her chin. "Good girl," he said. She tossed her head away. "I am not a child."

"I can see that."

* * *

"We would need fortifications. The marshes along our southern boundary have hosted their share of battles, bordered as they are with Mordor," said Uldor.

Haldir shook his head. "It is near impossible to defend a marsh, not to mention distasteful for both Lothlorien and our allies given the sheer number of elves who perished there in the last age. Having said that, Seren can advise to the amount of elves available for such a purpose should it be deemed truly necessary…"

Walking ahead of the others, the two elves had begun to broadly introduce those issues that were important to each in forming an alliance. Amdir noticed that, even though the two appeared deep in conversation, they never ceased looking both in front and beside them, always studying the land for signs of recent orc activity, wild life and other dangers.

The shocking loss of the two men the day before sat in her stomach like a dull ache and her eyes darted to Aea, flanking her right side, and whose face revealed the deep strain and heartbreak of Sidu's death. To her left walked Seren, much more herself today, her eyes alert and her shoulder much healed.

Seren had admitted to Amdir that, for now, she preferred to walk behind the ellon, and not resume her formal duties as a negotiator until necessary. Amdir understood that these informal preliminary talks were necessary to not only create an effective rapport between the parties but a way for Haldir to gently probe Uldor's motivations and expectations around a treaty. No doubt the Easterling played the same game.

Overhead the sun shone brightly. The clouds had lifted revealing a ultra blue sky with the occasional swath of white vapour moving slowly across the horizon. They were close to the jagged dark green line of trees now. Even from this distance she could see these were not the welcoming leafy trees of Lothlorien, rather tall spiky pine trees probably similar to those in the north of Mirkwood.

Uldor had explained that, once through the trees, they would likely be met by his own men and escorted into the camp that lay on the other side of the forest. She couldn't wait to the be under the shadow of the massive trees and welcomed the promise of cool forest air. She also realized that the entrance to the forest was the perfect spot for an ambush and this knowledge was reflected in Haldir and Uldor's tight jaws and unending vigilance.

They paused at the verge of the green enclosure. Ahead of them stood a grove of tall grey pines, heavy with cones. The center of the grove provided a shady refuge from the sun, and there Uldor stood before the party, impeding their entrance into the forest.

"By now the disappearance of the orc battalion we killed back at the Celebrant River will have been noticed. The uncanny wave tells us that the Enemy knows we move and tracks us even now. This band of trees divides the Brown Lands from the River Lands is both bountiful and treacherous. Orc soldiers from Mordor know it as well as the Men of the Brown and patrol it as do we. I ask that you stay close. We must not fan out along the path. If we are ambushed, Haldir, Aea and I will fight. Seren and Amdir, you will run east. We have sentries posted at the edge and you have the information you need to gain entry to the camp."

"We do?" The party turned to look at Seren, but Uldor did not respond. He turned towards the forest and began to walk. The others quickly fell in line.

As the sun disappeared into shadows below the knarled tree trunks, Amdir looked around carefully. Even to her untrained eye, there were signs of orc activity. Broken tree branches, trampled earth, an ashy fire pit that contained the bones of small animals. These orcs were certainly confident if they weren't taking more precautions.

They walked for over an hour in silence. Aea, Haldir and Uldor walked with weapons drawn, even Seren carried a small knife unsheathed. Amdir led Ithil by his reins so left a small dagger Haldir had given her in her sash. Under their feet the forest floor was dry and it was impossible to walk silently, even for an elf. Amdir found it strange that she saw no sign of animals. Unlike Mirkwood or the forests of Lothlorien, there were no martins shyly peeking out from the brush nor the warning hoots of an owl curiously tracking their progress. In fact, there was no birdsong at all. Except for the sound of the party's steps, the forest was unnervingly silent.

Amdir didn't notice that the line had stopped moving till she almost ran into Seren's back. Ahead of them, Uldor and Haldir stood frozen, on high alert for the barest sound of movement, and behind her, Ithil's ears lay flat against his head, yet the warhorse remained still. There, just below the scent of pine needles, the slightest hint of feces and rot, the scent of orcs.

Haldir looked back and raised, then lowered, a flat hand. Everyone down. They crouched on the ground just as a group of ten or 15 orcs passed about 20 meters in front of them, swords drawn and glinting in the small pockets of sunlight that pierced the trees. Amdir silently pleaded with the horse to remain silent and still, which, miraculously, he did.

Like the elves, the orcs walked in silence, intent on their surroundings, perhaps sensing the elves just as the elves sensed them. Amdir inched closer to Seren and they clasped hands while the party waited for the orcs to pass, hoping against hope that they would not be spotted.

They waited a full five minutes before standing up and continuing east. They were on their last section of forest when a red-tipped arrow pierced Seren's backpack, narrowly missing Amdir's nose by a few inches. Her cry alerted the others, just as a group of orcs stepped out of the thick brush, ready to fight.

Amdir saw Haldir and Uldor lunge at their attackers just as massive arms knocked her knife clean out of her hands and held her in a vice grip, a sword at her throat. Another orc had taken Ithil's reins and was holding the horse steady, even as Ithil tried to rear back. She cried out but could see that Seren was held similarly and Aea was valiantly fighting two orcs while Haldir and Uldor leapt and parried to cut down attacker after attacker.

She screamed struggled against her stinking captor when Uldor was knocked to the ground by a particularly fierce sword blow, but the elf righted himself almost immediately and while Haldir assisted Aea.

Suddenly, more arrows flew out from high in the trees, and Amdir was sure this was the end, but rather than cutting down the elves, these arrows pierced the throats of the evil battalion almost simultaneously. Black blood spurted down Amdir's back as her captor stiffened in shock then collapsed to the ground, releasing his grasp on her body as he went. She stumbled forward and reached for Haldir who grabbed her hand, forcefully pulling her to him as he looked around at the dead orcs incredulously.

Uldor straightened up and wiped the back of his hand across his face. "Took you long enough!" he yelled out to the trees, as beside him, Aea bent down to help Seren rise to her feet. "Everyone whole?" he asked, and around them, faces began to appear as the Men of the Brown appeared. Ithil calmly walked to where Amdir clung to Haldir, nosing the back of her shoulder.

Haldir stood warily, placing Amdir behind him, keeping his sword unsheathed while Seren inched closer to Aea. A large man with a round face and full beard stepped forward and offered Uldor a big grin. "Didn't want to spoil the fun, Chief, but the women looked a little worried."

Uldor grinned back and Haldir visibly relaxed his shoulders and began to sheath his sword. The large man raised an eyebrow towards Haldir and Uldor stepped forward.

"Haldir, March Warden of Lothlorien, may I present to you, Garan, my second in command." Garan lowered his head for a moment before raising curious eyes to study every part of the march warden, his eyes pausing on Haldir's sparsely elegant sword and scabbard.

"This is the Mistress Amdir, a translator of Mirkwood," at this Garan's eyes widened and he exchanged meaningful looks with a few of the other men who now encircled the party of elves and dead orcs, "and Lord Celeborn's official negotiator, Lady Seren."

The men bowed in turn to the ellyn, and Amdir couldn't help but stare back at them. They were shorter than elven men, their shoulders a touch more broad, their faces a touch more ruddy when they were light skinned, or shone like dark caramel when they were dark skinned.

Many of them wore beards, even those who had less years, and they wore their hair tied back with leather straps, but few had hair long enough to braid. They had a different scent to them; more musky and earthy then an elf, although it was not unpleasant, just…different.

There were surrounded now by at least 20 men, and she marveled that they had moved as silently as any woodland elf through this dry pine forest, and she noted how their expressive faces reflected both intelligence and pleasure. On closer look she realized that those with smoother faces were women, who artfully disguised their femininity with scarves and wraps, just as Aea had at first, but who walked tall, equal with their men folk.

She glanced at Haldir whose face, quite surprisingly in Amdir's opinion, did not reflect the wonder she was feeling. In contrast, he studied the warriors with hard eyes, taking in their weapons, their stance and measuring their strength. Of course Haldir was much travelled and had many dealings with men. There was no wonder in men for Haldir, only awareness of the job at hand, and an obvious desire to move forward and get it done. His attitude was also reflected on Seren's face, and Amdir suddenly understood how inexperienced she was compared to the Galadhrim, and she lowered her eyes, but not before noticing Uldor's own green eyes taking her in, an amused smile curved across his face.

Amdir raised her chin and brushed her hair out of her eyes, then followed the party the last few kilometers out of the forest, across the boundary and into the lands of the Men of the Brown.


	10. Shock & Awe

They left the band of forest behind them, and the landscape shifted dramatically to barren rock formations and stark cliffs. Along the rocks grew sagebrush, marigolds and a certain kind of willow Amdir had never seen before.

Although the earth here appeared to support very little life, Amdir remembered reading that many species lived here, but they took cover in the cool of deep crevices during the day and came out to hunt or mate at night.

She knew a certain type of hare was plentiful in these parts and imagined that it sustained these men and woman who walked on either side of her now.

The sun was strong in these parts, the sky blue and cloudless, and the dark rocks reflected the sunlight, amplifying its heat.

Amdir felt sweat pooling between her breasts and shoulder blades. As they hiked, the terrain climbed steadily in altitude. Occasionally they edged around large outcroppings along a shelf so narrow they had to walk single file. Below these paths the cliffs fell steeply and Amdir imagined that no man or elf could survive a fall. In these areas she walked carefully, and even the men, used to these pathways, took their time.

Ahead of her walked Seren, Uldor and Garan. Haldir walked behind her and she knew he must be tense, for he'd muttered to her as they left the forest that he'd rather no one walked behind him, so little was his trust in the Men of the Brown.

Meanwhile Garan and Uldor were deep in conversation in the Easterling's language. Seren was ignorant to this language and merely shrugged at Amdir, however Amdir was able to pick up some familiar yet puzzling words like "Mirkwood" and "gifts" and one time she even thought she heard Garan use the Rhun word for "marriage."

As they navigated the edge of yet another cliff, the path quickly descended to a narrow and barren valley, perhaps once a channel for a now dried up riverbed, and along the way, Uldor let out a long, low whistle and watchmen appeared at the top of the rocks, and raised their hands in greeting.

They rounded a corner and the landscape flattened out and broadened into a wide green plateau. The contrast was almost jarring.

There was a shining silver lake on the northside of the camp that nourished a small area of trees and crops. In the middle of the valley stood at least twenty round cloth-covered yurts, and here men and even a few woman were milling around, wearing similar scarves that Aea and Uldor wore around their heads.

As the party entered the valley, these people rose from their work and smiles of greeting lit their faces. Amdir looked beyond the yurts saw a familiar silken blue tent and her heart leapt in her chest for the tent was watched over by two tall guards in gleaming metal armor and in front of them, stood the tell-tale flag of Greenwood the Great.

Behind her Haldir's hand lightly brushed her arm so she knew he stood closely behind her. The party paused as a throng of men and women stepped forward to greet Uldor and Aea and stare curiously at the others.

Amdir saw a dark-skinned woman approach Uldor and, after a few words, sink to her knees in tears and she knew this woman must be Lor's wife. Aea stepped forward to help the woman up and of a sudden the people parted, and there, making his way up the middle, looking casually resplendent in an emerald green robe, was King Thranduil and his retinue.

Uldor stepped forward and offered the King the slightest of bows. Thranduil raised an eyebrow and studied the chief of the Men of the Brown with icy blue eyes. He gaze left Uldor and momentarily rested on Seren, Amdir and Haldir in turn. Now Haldir stepped forward and stood beside Uldor. A step behind Thranduil stood Haldir's oldest friend, Feren. Amdir saw the two elves nod to each other, although their faces remained carefully neutral.

"Welcome to the Brown Lands, King Thranduil," began Uldor. "I trust my people have shown you welcome and hospitality."

The King looked around. "As well as one can expect." He looked at Haldir and again the brow lifted.

"My lord," said Haldir with a bow.

"I entrusted she who is like kin to me, to Lothlorien, believing that you would keep watch over her. You can imagine my distress at learning that you allowed her abduction."

Haldir's eyes narrowed. "You can see that your kin is well and safely arrived, my Lord," the march warden replied through clenched teeth.

The King took a deep breath and his eyes rested on Amdir's face. Amdir offered a slight smile and curtsied to her King.

"She should not be here at all, Master Haldir, as you well know."

"My Lord," said Uldor, "we have much to discuss and it would seem that all the parties are now present."

Thranduil looked at Seren and offered the negotiator a cursory nod. Seren, in turn, stood wide eyed, never taking her eyes off the handsome elven king's face. Amdir gave her a gentle elbow prod and Seren dropped into a belated curtsy.

"Your men look weary, as do you, Uldor. Your journey has been long and from the looks of things, not without adventure. I am sure you are anxious to speak to your men. I will retreat to my tent, and bid the elves of Lothlorien and my kin to accompany me for refreshment and…a chat."

"A chat, my lord?" Haldir cocked his head to the right.

"What else have you to do at this moment, Master Haldir?"

Haldir looked straight ahead, his features carefully schooled. "A quick chat is most welcome," he said, and behind Thranduil, Feren's mouth twitched when he caught Haldir's eye.

Amdir's heart was racing with joy and excitement. While he was her King, behind closed doors, Thranduil was like an uncle to Amdir and he and his Queen had practically raised her in the King's Halls. Nothing could go wrong with the King here, and she longed for a few moments alone with him to find out about Queen Isobel and to simply feel safe in his presence.

But for now, she quietly followed behind him as the elves took their leave of the men, and made their way beyond the yurts to the comfortable and luxurious tents of King Thranduil.

Before they entered the main tent, Thranduil suddenly turned around and the group halted, just as the two guards stepped aside. "Amdir, I will speak to you first. You two will wait here until I am ready."

Seren and Haldir nodded, and Amdir followed her King through the silk entrance to the tent. Once the material had closed behind them, Thranduil quickly poured a tall glass of wine and handed it to Amdir.

"Sit, Amdir, you look terrible. Tell me, how do you fare, and what happened?" He motioned for her to sit on one of the comfortable chairs near his bed and he sat down facing her, his own wine in hand. She looked up into his face, now kind, his clear blue eyes concerned as a graceful hand tucked his long silver hair behind one ear. He was leaning towards her.

She opened her mouth to speak but tears began to stream down her face and she could not find her voice. She lifted the wine and took a large swallow. Thranduil sat back in his chair to give her a moment to collect herself for which she was grateful.

"There were orcs, my Lord King. Twice, and it brought me back to that time, with my parents… I was so scared and the memories returned to me anew. Haldir fought bravely and I could never have imagined I would be so happy to meet men…" she took another drink, "and before that he – the Easterling, stole me, and there was a flood and I watched the men and our horses get swept away. I thought we too would die but they had tied us to a rope and…and…"

Thranduil leaned forward and took Amdir's hand. "Shhhhhh… take a breath, my dear, you have been through much. I am sorry for you."

She inhaled a shaky breath and let it out slowly, visibly calming with the exhalation.

He smiled at her as though calming a child and his voice was gentle. "Amdir, you will need to be strong for a while longer. Can you do that?"

She nodded, "Yes," she said, dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief the King passed her. She made an effort to sit tall and even offered him a brave smile. "Of course, my Lord."

He exhaled and sat back, studying her, his finger tapping his smooth cheek in thought. "Amdir, you will soon be asked to do the Elven realms a service. When the time comes, may I count on you?"

She furrowed her brow. "Of course, I would do anything to protect our people."

Thranduil stared at her for a time, and Amdir thought she saw sadness in his eyes. She lowered her own gaze to her wine glass and took a sip. Then he nodded and rose, motioning for her to stay seated and called out to the guard to let the others in.

As they entered, Amdir caught Haldir's gaze. The march warden was pale and looked concerned, and Seren's face was also pinched.

"Please take a seat, we have much to discuss. Feren, would you have Ceren bring us food, fresh water and more wine." He eyes fell on Seren's face, blanched white as paper. "Lots of wine," he added and Feren nodded to relay the message to Thranduil's servant.

Amdir rose to join the others and the elves all took seats around a wooden table in the centre of the tent.

The King looked at Haldir. "I imagine you are surprised to see me here."

Haldir said nothing, but nodded.

"While Lothlorien was wringing its hands and sitting around in council meetings, I sent a convoy to Rhun to meet with the Easterling King."

Haldir's eyes widened but still he remained silent. Beside him, Seren's mouth gaped and she suddenly closed it, as though remembering in whose company she sat. But Amdir stared at her bold and beloved King and a small smile of pride crept across her face. Thranduil held her gaze for an instant, then continued.

"King Ulwarth of Rhun, as we know, is without heirs, and fond of his nephew who he thought dead for many decades. If Uldor is willing to return to King Ulwarth's fold, he would lead the Easterling forces and his alliances would be become the alliances of all of Rhun. The King is confident that Uldor is ready to return to Rhun, and the two have been corresponding for these last five years. Recently Uldor made a promise that he would return within the year. Like all men, Ulwarth lusts after riches, and he understands that an alliance between Rhun and the Elven kingdoms will bring Rhun much treasure. He wishes for this treaty as we do. Historically, we have always been in conflict, but aligned, we can fend off the growing forces of Mordor and protect the realms of both elves and men in Middle-earth. To be clear, Ulwarth has suggested that if we can conclude a treaty between my Kingdom and the Men of the Brown, when Uldor returns to Rhun, that treaty will extend to Rhun and all elven realms."

Haldir exhaled at sat back, frowning in thought. He suddenly leaned forward at looked Thranduil in the eye. "And what does the King of Rhun ask for to allow his confidence in such a treaty?"

Here Thranduil hesitated and his eyes darted to Amdir, then back over to Haldir. "A marriage contract between Uldor and one who is important to both Kingdoms, someone who is kin to both myself and the Lords of Lothlorien."

"But there is no such ellyn," said Haldir.

"One is  _like_  kin to both myself and the Lords of Lothlorien."

A small cry escaped Amdir and Haldir suddenly stood up. "You wouldn't not dare…"

"Do not question me in my own tent, march warden. I would dare if it protects my realm – our realms – from the blood lust of Mordor. Now sit down. You are out of line."

Haldir would not relent. "I may not be your equal in kingship, but I am my Lord's representative here and will speak to you plainly. To sell one who is precious beyond all measure to that Easterling is…is…you cannot entertain this! He was a servant or Meaglin's – surely you have not forgotten the cruelty of that dark elf!"

Thranduil blinked and slowly rose to face Haldir. The two elves were almost of equal height, and each had fought Maeglin, the only eldar to willingly join Morgoth, and who, until he resurfaced at Dul Guldor decades before, had been believed to have died in the fall of Gondolin, back in the first age.

In a strange twist of fate, Maeglin had been the uncle of Thranduil's Queen, and he and Haldir had fought for their lives against this bane of Middle-earth. Thranduil had been gravely injured in that standoff, and it was Haldir who brought Maeglin's reign of terror to an end and escaped with Thranduil just in time to save the King's life. And it was Haldir's heart that had been broken, when he realized that Isobel, his fiancé, was actually in love with Thranduil.

Haldir glared at the King, resentment and fury burning in his eyes.

"I have forgotten nothing," said Thranduil, "but your affection blinds you to what the Kingdoms need. This is not about the life of one elf, precious though she be, this is about the lives of all elves and the free men of Middle-earth. Do not allow your disappointment to cloud your mind. We all sacrifice. It is our duty."

Haldir's face twisted into a bitter scowl. "And what do you sacrifice, Thranduil? Where is your discomfort? He who has everything thinks nothing of wasting the happiness of those not so fortunate. She is barely grown and you treat her like a brood mare or battle gain. Have mercy on her for pity's sake!"

"Have mercy on her or on you?" Thranduil swung around to face Amdir, his eyes fierce. "I asked you before if you would serve your people, now that you know the requirement, I will ask you again. Will you do your part to bring peace to Middle-earth?"

Now all eyes fell to Amdir. She rose, and in the process, knocked over her crystal goblet, spilling wine over the table and watching as it rushed into the grooves of the carved wood, then ran over the side pooling onto the thick carpets of the tent.

She looked up to meet the eyes of the warrior and the warrior King as they stood waiting for her response. Seren slowly stood too, her face visibly stricken, her eyes wide.

Amdir lifted a shaky hand to her chest, and took a deep breath. Marriage to Uldor? He who had kidnapped her, had hid in her room, and treated her cruelly. He who had served Maeglin in the most intimate of ways and been called 'favourite' to that dark lord. She thought of the way he had looked at her during those first interrogations and how she felt the gaze of those dark green eyes deep in her belly. Could she pledge herself to this Easterling for all her long life? She lifted her gaze to her King. "You give me a choice," she said quietly and Thranduil nodded slowly.

"If it will ensure the safety of Middle-earth, I don't see how I can refuse."

Haldir closed his eyes as Thranduil walked around the table and placed a large hand on Amdir's shoulder. She barely felt his touch, such was her shock. "You do your King proud."

She nodded her head and, not trusting herself to stay composed, fled the tent, careening into the servant as he carried in a tray of wine and food, and leaving four shocked faces in her wake.


	11. Spilled Wine

Even at the best of times, the sight of a tall elf, almost six feet, running through a human camp, long slender legs leaping, hair streaming out behind her, is going to cause a stir, but Amdir didn't think of that as she raced towards the silver water of the lake at the north end of the camp, nor did she take heed of the fact that she wasn't even sure if she was allowed to wander – or run – freely through the camp at all.

She simply ran until she reached the line of reeds that edged the lake and slowly waded into the cool water. She had gone as far as her thighs when a voice behind her finally made her aware of her surroundings.

"While I can understand your wanting to end your life at the prospect of marriage to me, I'm afraid you've chosen the wrong method. That's as deep as the lake gets."

She turned around and blanched when she saw Uldor's face. "I am not trying to kill myself," she said.

Uldor raised his shoulders, then sat down on the grassy bank and regarded her. She turned away and began to wash the blood from her tunic and lowered her legs so she could dunk herself entirely under water. The lake cooled her flaming cheeks and she sat buoyantly under the water, savoring the quiet for a few moments. When her lungs began to burn, she reluctantly stood and returned to the world, twisting her hair and releasing water that ran down her back.

Aware of Uldor's eyes on her, she began to make her way back to bank, her steps releasing muck and debris from the lakebed.

"He didn't even let you to wash before he told you?"

She shrugged as she stepped over the reeds. "Why wait? There was business to be done. "

"You caused quite a stir running through the camp like that. Most of these men have never seen an elleth before."

Ignoring him for the time being she began to remove her boots and her leggings from under the oversized tunic of Haldir's she wore, wringing them out and placing them on the grass to dry in the sun.

"And what impression did I leave? A paragon of wifely material?" she could not keep the anger from her voice.

Uldor raised his eyebrows and had the grace to looked surprised when she sat down beside him.

"That they would marry me to an elf – man – whatever you are, who served Maeglin in his bed chamber…"

She pulled her knees up to her chest and, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs, lowered her head.

"So I disgust you."

She looked up. "No, you don't disgust me, I didn't mean…" She exhaled loudly and her eye lingered on him, studying his tattooed jawline and sharp features. How odd that she would be married to this elf who looked so little like the elves she knew and so much like a tall man of the east. An Easterling.

Around his eyes were fine lines that the night she slept beside him it had been too dark to see, and she noticed a small white scar below his right eye, like he had been hit with something sharp at some time in the distant past. The red welt of her earlier punch had faded, she noted, to a small cut low on his jaw.

She looked down, taking in his long neck and strong shoulders, and appreciating for a moment the straight line of his back and narrowing of his hips. He was more than striking, perhaps he was even beautiful.

But from the beginning she had feared him based on Haldir and Rumil's warnings, and when he had kidnapped her, bound and gagged her, he had reinforced her fears and left her with a sense of loss and frustration that she might never see her home again. He had taken away her power, and, no matter how beautiful she found him, it was hard to look at him.

"I know I wasn't your choice," he said to her in Rhun, but she saw no shame within him, only defensive pride clearly warring with a desire to be kind to her. Perhaps make up for the gag? It was possible, of course, that compared to what he had endured, he didn't see the gag or her temporary loss of power as important.

She knew he felt he had made up for it when he set her free… and logically that made sense, but she still felt anger and the memory of the feel of that gag in her mouth and the on-going threat was not so easily released.

She sighed inwardly. He was beautiful. He was dangerous. And now he was to be her husband.

"I shouldn't have said that, and it's not how I really feel," she said.

"How do you feel?"

She looked down. "I cannot say."

"Because you don't wish to be cruel or you truly don't know?"

"Both."

He shook his head. "I was a slave, made to do what he asked if I were to survive. Amdir, sometimes life is not what you expect it to be, but we do what we must."

Uldor stared out across the small lake, at whose back the land sharply rose in unforgiving rock faces. To one side of the lake was a large paddock where stood dozens of fine horses, including Ithil, grazing in the sun. It was surprisingly serene oasis, a strange place to have this conversation.

"You speak of your rapes so openly," she said.

He looked at her sharply. "Why wouldn't I? It is not my shame, it is his. And when your friend, Haldir, killed him, the shame died with him. I am proud that I survived it. I would hope that a future wife would see it that way too."

She bit her lip and leaned back on her hands considering his words. She stole a glance at him from the tail of her eye. He continued looking at the lake, but his eyes were stormy and his adam's apple bobbed in this throat. It struck her that perhaps he was not happy about the prospect of marriage to her either.

"He says I must marry you to ensure our peace treaty is sound, so that when you return to Rhun as the King's heir, the treaty may extend to the wider kingdoms."

Uldor nodded. "This is what I was told as well, but many months ago."

She exhaled slowly as understanding dawned. "And this is why you came to Lothlorien. Not to spy on Lothlorien's defenses, rather, to spy on me."

"Yes."

She laughed bitterly, finally drawing Uldor's eyes to her. "And my King, did he know the whole time?"

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly?"

"Sort of."

She tried to smile cynically, but her eyes threatened tears and she couldn't hold them back. He looked at her with something approaching interest and his voice, when he began to explain was direct. He had clearly decided there was no point in talking around the reality of the issue at hand, and for this, Amdir was grateful.

"Thranduil and Ulwarth have been negotiating for months now. The initial rapprochement with Lothlorien had stalled and the Elvenking took matters into his own hands. The sticking point was this peace marriage. Thranduil refused it, but Ulwarth wouldn't be swayed. The only elleth with strong enough ties in both Kingdoms to be a peace weaver was – is- you. I believe that if he could have, your King would have spared you this marriage."

She ran her hands through her wet hair, held it back for a moment, then released it.

"I just…I just can't believe this is happening. That Thranduil knew; that he  _negotiated_  it. And what of you, Uldor. How do you feel about it?"

He shrugged and his eyes lingered on her face then briefly dipped to her lips. "There are worse fates, I suppose."

She rubbed fresh tears away and raised her chain. "That is hardly reassuring."

Uldor snorted and Amdir shot him a dirty look. "Were you looking for romance?"

She gathered her feet under her to stand but Uldor quickly leaned forward and pressed his hand to her arm, stopping her. "Please, you are in shock and it's wrong of me to speak thus."

She stilled, and while she didn't settle back down, nor did she try to stand.

Uldor sighed and dropped his head a measure, his sat with one knee pulled up, elbow resting on it, the other leg fell open towards her. If Amdir didn't know any better, she'd think him utterly at ease, but his pinched face said otherwise.

"I have never had any expectation of a wife or family. I was raised among men and to choose a mortal wife would have been too painful, so I have always turned away from individual attachments. I dreamt of one day making my way to Imladris, where lives Elrond Peredhel and his kin, the half-elven, but that dream was shattered by my abduction.

"For many years I thought I would die in Dol Guldor; I wanted to. I cursed that I had chosen immortality over the frailty of a human life. I tried to fade, but my spirit was too strong and deep down, a part of me knew that there was more for me than servitude. And I was right, but after Maeglin released me, I understood that I could never be accepted by Imladris, or by any Elven realm. After all, who would trust me, the favourite of Maeglin?

"By then my Uncle had been made King of Rhun, and I know he grieved me, but my shame at that time was too great even to return there. Even my lingering grief at the loss of my family in that land prevented me. One moment the Lords of that land had sold me as a slave to Maeglin, the next I was being invited back as heir. While my uncle, now the King, was not behind my family's deaths, those evil Lords still serve him, and I would have to face them with the cool, conciliatory mind of a ruler.

"I simply could not at that time. That is why I dedicated my life to creating a community for these lost and broken men, the Men of the Brown, and giving them a safe place to regain their honour and make a life. I can relate to them, we understand one another. Perhaps I can restore to them that which was lost to me…

"It was now five years ago that I received a letter from Ulwarth. I was shocked that he had found me, and his words awakened something in me, dissolving much of the anger and shame I felt. A kernel of hope kindled in my heart that perhaps I could return home after all. That I could bring my men with me, so they too could live as part of society with the full pardon of the King in Rhun.

"But even then, the idea of having a wife was so far gone that, in truth, I was stunned when my Uncle suggested it, and then made it his wish. It is a dream beyond reckoning for me. When I first saw you in Lothlorien, I thought you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I still think this."

He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Amdir,"

She raised her head and met his eye.

"Whatever you have been ordered to do, I would have you come to me willingly, or not at all. I will not force you into a marriage bond with me if it is distasteful to you."

She nodded slowly and her eyes stared at a small group of sparrows bathing near the edge of the water. "I was already given a choice. We will marry, Uldor son of Ulfang, and our union will bring Rhun and the Elven realms of Middle-earth together. Force enough to banish the enemy from our lands forever."

"And perhaps one day they will sing our praises?"

She shook her head. "One can only hope…"

He let out a small sound that she took to be a laugh, as she rose to return to Thranduil's tent.

He didn't make an attempt to rise with her for which she was relieved, but he raised his voice to be heard as she walked away.

"I will make you happy, you may not believe it now, but I will."

She paused and looked back at him over her shoulder. "You are the last person who could ever make me happy," she said sadly, and continued on her way.

* * *

Haldir wiped a grubby hand across his brow. Compared to Thranduil's unblemished and pristine beauty, he was suddenly aware of his mussed hair and the blood stains on his vambraces and tunic. He was weary and felt battle-worn, but he sat tall nonetheless, and took pride in the actions that had led to his current state of dishevelment.

Either way, Thranduil didn't seem too bothered, but nor would he be, mused Haldir, given that the old King himself was a warrior whose proven ferocity and cunning belied his delicate looks.

Seren had left the room with the rest of the party including Thranduil's servants and Feren, in order to make arrangements for more tents to house the new arrivals. The two elves left sitting at the table, King of Mirkwood and Lothlorien's Captain of the Guard and March Warden, faced each other with the adversarial air of two who shared a deep and abiding dislike of one another.

"Well Haldir, here we find ourselves again. It would seem that neither of us is to have an adventure without the other present."

Thranduil spoke of when Haldir and Isobel had stolen away to Dol Guldor to rescue the King from the evil hold of Maeglin the Dark Elf, uncle to Isobel, the maiden who had become Thranduil's Queen. Had it not been for Haldir's warrior skill in defeating the Dark Elf, Thranduil would not have lived.

"Somebody has to be there to rescue you from mortal peril, my Lord, at least until young Legolas is ready to govern…"

Thranduil's eyes narrowed to slits. "I am the strongest warrior in Middle-earth, I need no such assistance. Usually."

Haldir arched an eyebrow but said nothing. Humour flashed in Thranduil's eyes but it was fleeting and before Haldir had time to second guess it, the King spoke again.

"I am indebted to you, it is not a fact that makes me comfortable, but I do honour it."

He inclined his head to the King. Thranduil stared at him for a few moments longer.

"Your silence deafens me. Speak your mind."

Haldir blinked, then met Thranduil's steady gaze. "She is barely old enough to wed, has next to no experience in the world. She is neither a negotiator nor a diplomat. She is an innocent. You know this, yet now you throw her to the cruelest of kingdoms and a man whom she fears."

Thranduil took a sip of wine and motioned for Haldir to do the same. The march warden ignored the jeweled goblet in front of him, and Thranduil shrugged nonchalantly.

"I do not wed her to King Ulwarth, I wed her to Uldor, who is, despite his odd ways, elven-kind. And this Easterling elf is not cruel, already he leads a band of men and helps them to reclaim their honour. She has no reason to fear him."

Haldir's mouth opened. "He leads a band of outlaws! These are lost men, thieves and murderers, who would kill a child for a loaf of bread."

Thranduil smiled thoughtfully. "Not so. That is their persona, granted, and one that protects them, but last year, they raided the food stores of a large keep south of Isengard near Rohan, where the master kept slaves and was starving the people of his land.

"They killed the master, this is true, not than any lamented the man's passing, and they distributed the food not to the men of the land, but to the women, to feed their families and organize their men folk.

"That was nine months ago and already this season the crops are sewn and there are lambs aplenty to ensure good wool come autumn. For every boast I hear of their cruelty, I hear another story quietly whispered of their generosity.

"These men have become heroes to the downtrodden of Middle-earth. When Uldor returns to his uncle the King, he will become heir to the Kingdom of Rhun, ever our adversaries. But his influence and Amdir as a peace weaver will change that. They will become worthy and honourable allies."

Haldir sighed and now he took a large swallow of his wine. "Your words would seem wise, but for the elleth involved. She has barely fifty years! She is too young!"

Thranduil raised a single brow. "Yet, in your mind, she is not too young to marry _you_ , Haldir O Lorien."

Haldir blinked and his mouth closed. He swallowed painfully before speaking again. "That is different."

Thranduil laughed. "Is it so? And how is that? How could you be a better husband to her? What have you to offer her?"

Haldir felt the anger rise from his sacrum and flood his limbs. "I would be  _kind_  to her, I would protect her, just as I protected her when I found her all those years ago and returned her to Mirkwood. Just as I protected Isobel when she found herself a stranger in your Kingdom. Just as I protected YOU! Tell me, Thranduil: Am I to lose every one I love to you and your never-ending scheming!?"

Thranduil's face was stone but for the tiny spot of pink in each cheek. He slowly rose to face Haldir, both hands leaning on the table in front of him. As Haldir's voice got louder, Thranduil's voice lowered to a dangerous timbre. "You did not 'lose' Isobel to me, you let her go. I recall it vividly."

Haldir recalled it vividly too. Memories of the raven-haired elleth, his oldest friend in a way, filled his mind. Isobel, then his fiancé, kneeling in concern over Thranduil's injured form. Isobel looking at Thranduil with desire in her eyes. Isobel pleading with Haldir not to leave her as tears streamed down her cheeks. He pounded his fist on the table with a curse, and stood.

"Because she loved YOU!"

"Because you were a FOOL!"

Haldir charged Thranduil, who grabbed the march warden's wrists and yanked him to the side. The two warriors toppled to the ground with a tremendous crash, taking a side table that held a carafe of wine and the carafe itself with them. They grappled violently, rolling over the spilled wine and shattered crystal, teeth clenched, hurling insults at one another.

"My Lords?"

The two froze, Haldir's fist was pulled back and preparing to strike, while Thranduil's hands were wrapped tightly around the March Warden's throat. "For the love of Eru Lluvatar, get off me," Thranduil hissed. Haldir blinked and rolled over, and the two rose simultaneously. Haldir straightened his filthy tunic and Thranduil calmly tucked a loose strand of silver hair behind his perfect ear.

Amdir's mouth dropped to the floor as she stared wide-eyed at the scene in front of her, taking in the broken side table and shattered carafe, noting the wine stains on the elves' clothing.

"Ah, Amdir. We were just discussing your betrothal," said the King, as he stepped forward and picked up his goblet of wine that still sat on the main table. He wordlessly handed it to Haldir, who took a large swing then handed it back to the King.

"I believe the March Warden here wishes to have a word with you," he said, and Haldir merely nodded, then walked towards Amdir and offered her his arm.

Her eyes darted from one to the other. Haldir swallowed and looked at her earnestly, and Thranduil nodded his blessing. With a last glance at the broken side table, she offered the King a quick curtsy, then took Haldir's arm and allowed him to guide her out of the tent.


	12. Take What You Want

They walked around the outskirts of the tents to a place where the green grass turned back into sagebrush and the land began to climb in rocky steppes. Beyond that the ground gave way to sand and rocks, and not much else. Haldir held Amdir closer to him than was necessary, and Amdir took comfort in the act.

"I am sorry you saw that, it was most inappropriate," said Haldir

Amdir raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "I think we are well beyond what is appropriate and what is not."

"What do you mean?"

Amdir untangled her arm from Haldir's and walked a few steps away from him. Haldir stopped walking and watched her.

She offered him the saddest of smiles. "I spoke with Uldor. He said that the King has been arranging this marriage for months now."

Haldir frowned. "I can assure you, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel knew nothing of it. They would have shared this with me. In fact, I cannot imagine why, if this were the case, Thranduil would send you to Lothlorien at all. It would make better sense for he to keep you close at hand, so he could reassure the King of Rhun."

Amdir sat down on a large rock and drew a circle in the sand with her bare toe.

"Where are your boots and leggings?"

She shrugged. "I suppose I forgot them down at the lake."

He motioned for her to return to him. "Come, Amdir, let's stay on the grass until we can find you some shoes."

Amdir frowned, ignoring Haldir's entreaty for the time being. "But then why did he send me to Lothlorien? And why were you two fighting?"

Haldir ran his hand through his hair. "Because I do not want this for you. I believe you deserve better. Besides, there is much water under the bridge between your King and I. Too much to explain right now."

"Queen Isobel?" She rejoined him and slowly they started to walk back towards the yurts of the men.

He nodded. "Among other things."

"You loved her once."

"Very much. We were betrothed."

"I have heard that. I also heard that you saved both her and the King, and then you sent her away to live in Fangorn."

She looked sidelong at the tall march warden. His silver hair was uncharacteristically disheveled and parts of it dried in bloody clumps from the orc battle. His face was streaked from dirt and sweat, and his tunic was filthy. But beyond this, she could still see the beauty of his smooth skin and piercing blue eyes. A tall graceful neck that curved down as he looked at her now.

She couldn't help but smile up at him.

He stopped in response and, grasping her shoulders gently, turned her around so she faced him. He raised his hand and placed it on her cheek and, to Amdir's surprise, lowered his forehead, resting it against hers in a gesture of affection, trust and weariness.

Amdir placed her hands around his upper arms, appreciating the curve of his biceps, and closed her eyes, and they stood like that for a few moments until Haldir went to pull away. "Forgive me, I forget myself, my place."

She tightened her grip on him. "No, Haldir. Please. I don't think I can do this alone."

Now he did pull away and her arms dropped to her sides. He shook his head and she could see the regret in his eyes.

"And how am I to support you through this? I know it is not your choice, but I cannot watch you do this, give your life to that Easterling. Feren informed me that my brothers have already departed Lothlorien and, when they arrive, I must leave here."

She inhaled a shaky breath, but straightened her shoulders and turned her face away, her eyes scanning the barren slate hills in the distance. She spoke quietly, more to herself than to him.

"You will return to Lorien. Of course you will. What else could one expect? You have already done me a great service and saved me more times than I can keep track of. I am going to marry…another…I would not expect you to… I would not want you to…" her voice cracked and faded away. Then she blinked and turned back around to look the handsome march warden full in the face.

"Oh Valar, Haldir, what have I done? I didn't even think, I just agreed…"

His hands rose to grip her shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin, and she winced but did not resist. "You don't have to," he said with passion. "I could take you back to Lothlorien and place you under the protection of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. You would never have to leave, and you could stay with me. You could remain in Lothlorien as my wife. You could marry me, Amdir, if you would have me."

Amdir stared. "Marry you?"

The march warden glanced at the ground for a moment, then blinked and his blue eyes met hers. "If you would have me."

Her heart raced and she inhaled sharply. Her mouth hung slack and she shook her head slowly. Her disbelieving mind for a moment wondered if she had been killed in the battle after all. Was she dreaming? It's what I wanted, she thought to herself. It what I always believed was meant to be.

Her face may have paled, her limbs may have trembled, but to Haldir, she said nothing. His look of concern did not register in her mind, and she did not feel his hands tighten around her, supporting her against a fall.

Mentally, she felt herself careening, barely able to feel the sand beneath her feet. The emotions of the day; fatigue, shock and even the belated adrenaline of battle, disintegrated the strict boundaries between them. Haldir's untouchable boundaries as he had always dictated them; such decorum, such propriety. Always a need to do the right thing…

His proposal was meaningless to her now. They both knew this. But by the Valar, she wanted him.

Under such circumstances, what did decorum even matter? The elf she viewed as a father had betrayed her. She had been taken, bound, and had watched men die. And now she was being forced into a marriage she did not want at the expense of a lifetime with the one she wanted desperately.

For the first time in her life, she felt rage over take her, a deep encompassing and satisfying anger that, when she looked at Haldir, he who represented the life that had been stolen from her, a rage transformed into primal lust and a need to possess him. Damn propriety. Damn decorum, and damn his boundaries.

She closed the distance between their bodies and wrapped her arms around his neck. With greed she had never known before, she kissed his jawline, running her lips over his cheek bones and finally his mouth. She inhaled his scent of musk, leather and even the sharp tang of blood that she didn't mind for he had fought valiantly to protect her, and when her tongue met his, an animalistic passion rose within her that, had she been able to think, would have shocked her.

But this moment was not about thinking, it was about realizing that, if she had to give so much, then she would also take in return. And what she wanted was in front of her right now, and whether he offered it or not, she would have him.

With a heady rush she succumbed to her desire for him, reveling in the masculine sensuality of his body, the broad planes of his chest and shoulders, and when she looked up at him, he was staring down at her, his eyes wide, his irises deepened to the colour of a violent storm. She felt him rise against her abdomen, and a rush of sexual longing flooded her veins. She burned for him.

She felt his hesitation at first, and kissed him harder, pressing herself against him, dissolving his resistance measure by measure, stroke by stroke, softening his hardened exterior to kindle his raw emotion. She caressed his face and his shoulders and ran her tongue along his bottom lip until Haldir's proper manners, his chivalry and his infallible sense of heroism dissolved into the dark chaos of desire and need.

They lowered their bodies down to the sand and only once did he pull back.

"Are you sure you want this? If we go further I will not be able to stop."

She only paused long enough to reply, "It is I who cannot stop," then she untied his leggings and opened her legs, and gave him no more reason to question the act as, with a gasp of pleasure laced in triumph, she drew him into her and allowed him to take that which she had always imagined would be his alone.

All propriety left behind, he thrust and drove into her and she gasped and threw her head back, arching into him, greedily receiving him, urging him to go deeper and faster. Her breath heaved as she reached up to pull his face back down to kiss him. "I love you, by the Valar, I love you," she whispered between kisses, his breath ragged as he declared himself back to her.

She responded by raking her hands down his back, and pulling him into her, and he lowered his arms to rest on his elbows, his face rubbing against hers, his eyes finally closed. As a subterranean heat spread throughout her body, she felt herself rising into him, her fea merged with his, and the beauty of their bonding brought tears to her eyes.

One strong hand cupped her head, while the other reach down to support her buttock, changing the angle just enough to turn the heat into a searing wave of pleasure that tore through her. As she rode the crescendo, Haldir's moans pierced the silence of the deserted landscape until, together and heaving, they collapsed into the sandy ground.

He lay over her, his lips against her neck, his body still entangled with hers. "I'm sorry," he breathed into her hair causing her to shiver, as she struggled to regain her senses. "I'm so sorry…"

She pressed her lips to his fiercely. "Do not be," she whispered, kissing him between words, indulging in the deliciousness that was Haldir. "I wanted this… Now you will always be my first."

With a groan, he rolled away to lay on his back, and she rested beside him in silence for more minutes than she could count, running her hand over the blond hair on his chest that shone translucent in the sun. Her hip had begun to ache from the rough stones beneath her, but she pushed the discomfort away and focused instead on the tall muscular elf languidly spread beside her, his eyes pleasantly closed, one arm thrown behind his head.

"You look like one of the Valar," she said, running a hand along the smooth skin of his tricep.

He opened his eyes and squinted up at her. "Did I hurt you?"

"Only a little, but then it felt good. Is it always that way?"

His lips spread across his face. "No, not always. "

"I meant what I said."

He craned his head up and turned his body towards her so they lay chest to chest. Then he drew himself up on his elbow. The smile was gone from his face, replaced with look so intense that it took effort to hold his gaze.

"I know. I meant it too."

She wait for a few heartbeats, and he remained silent. "What happens now?" she said.

He sat up fully and faced her. "I don't want to complicate this for you, Amdir. You already have many decisions to make. This was a surprise. It would not have been my choice to bond with you like this, here, today, but your coming to me like this…I could not resist. I never expected this of you. I can only hope I have given you what you wanted and you will feel no regret. That you will not come to hate me in time."

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and she looked away, causing the March Warden to chuckle. "And now she blushes," he said.

"I didn't plan this," she said, feeling the sudden need to defend herself. To escape his rather frank, in her opinion, assessment of her behaviour. "And I would never hate you."

He leaned over and touched her cheek, then let his hand fall to her shoulder and upper arm, squeezing her in a gesture of affection and reassurance.

"I know that, meleth, and I know why you did it too. Sometimes we all need to forget what has befallen us. When we have been through battle, it is natural to embrace life in its truest form. It is not your fault, I was your willing participant, and I can assure you, I have no regret."

Her cheeks had returned to their normal colour and she listened to him with interest.

"You gave me a great gift," he continued. "But I will not hold you back because of it. I wish more than anything in this world that this were a starting point of a life together, but even if it is the ending point, I am grateful that you came to me. You are my Amdir, my brave one, my survivor. Whatever decisions you make, you will always be the best part of me, and now I will always be a part of you."

She smiled at him. "Your brave one?"

"My survivor."

"I don't know if I will survive this marriage…"

He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head. "Oh, you will. Not only that, you will find happiness. You will have a husband who loves you, and young ones to call you naneth, and a beautiful home in the east beside a great river where grow tall trees with wide fronds instead of leaves, and where people ride strange animals that hold water in a large hump on their backs."

She began to laugh and his eyes crinkled in response. His smile grew.

"You do not believe me? I have heard of these creatures. You can ride them without stopping for days. And great men will bring you spices and treasure as gifts, and your kingdom will be a peaceful kingdom. You will be a great queen and your subjects will speak your name with love."

She stared at him, her face softening with the vision. Was he right? Could this be her future after all? Haldir's eyes shone with pride when he looked at her and she felt the warmth of his hope for her radiate through her body. "And you? What will you do?" she asked.

He shrugged. His lips pressed together but raised at the sides. "What I always have done. Guard the marches of Lothlorien. Direct my troops. Protect the realm. Argue with your King. Spar with my brothers. I enjoy living a quiet life. I will return to the Lord and Lady, and take comfort in the knowing that I once saved a great Queen when she was but an elfling, and that now I can rest, that important deed behind me."

"Oh Haldir," She sat up and threw her arms around him. She felt his body tremble, but when she pulled back, his face was steady. He reached out and tied the side of her tunic where the laces hung loose, then gathered his vambraces and baldric, although he did not put them on.

The sun was low in the western sky and the shadows had begun to grow long. She felt a wave of exhaustion flow over her and when she stood, her legs trembled. Haldir, not missing a beat, rose and wrapped a strong arm around her waist.

"I will walk you back to your tent"

She looked at him. "I don't believe I have a tent."

The side of his lip quirked. "Things happened so quickly, I don't believe either of us do."

"Perhaps we will have to sleep here, forever."

His eyebrows arched up for a moment, then his mouth spread in a smile. "I would like nothing better," he said and took a quick look around them. "But goodness knows what dangers abound, and we really should get you to shelter."

"Always the hero."

They began to walk back to the camp. "I'm not the sure about the hero part, but I do believe in doing my duty."

She smiled and paused to touch his cheek. He took her hand and kissed her palm. "I know," she said. "And I am grateful, but I'm also glad that, in these last few hours, you were not so heroic. I will marry him – the Easterling – as I am bid for I too will do my duty, but I will never forget what you have given me today."

She ran a hand over her belly, thinking of the moment when he released his seed into her, hoping that they had conceived, and not caring how it would be explained. If she had to give her future, her future husband would have to allow for her taking what she could get of happiness beforehand. It was a crude but fair tradeoff.

His eyes dipped to her abdomen, then he reached out and kissed her fiercely; a kiss that Amdir understood as good bye.

* * *

That night she lay quietly beside Seren, feigning sleep. After their tryst, the two elves said little. Haldir escorted Amdir to Feren who directed her to the tent she was to share with the Lothlorien negotiator, and then, with a look of deep despair, disappeared himself.

There was a feast that night to celebrate the return of Uldor and honour the two fallen men, Lor and Sidu, but Amdir skipped that in favour of a warm bed and a roof over her head, even if that roof was made of oiled canvas, and a chance to collect her thoughts.

Something in her had shifted when she'd lain with Haldir. The sex didn't need to happen; she knew that Haldir would never have presumed he could kiss her let alone claim her. But she had wanted it. For the first time in her life, she had done what she wanted for her own selfish reasons, and it was empowering. Was she not entitled to her own happiness? Why should the fate of this alliance come down to her?

She hoped against hope she was pregnant. She realized with starling clarity that it didn't matter that she was unmarried, only that she remain so. She was tired of being a pawn and determined that nobody but she would make such an important decision about her life ever again.

That is why, while Seren had been gone, Amdir had repacked her kit and placed it under her bed. She had carefully included those things that she would need to travel from the Brown Lands south to North Ithlilien and on to the great city of, Minas Tirith, that was once ruled by men who had elven blood in their veins.

She had memorized the maps of Middle-earth many years before, been quizzed on landmarks, settlements and rivers, and she figured that, if she travelled quickly, she could make Minas Tirith within a fortnight. Perhaps as long as a month, but what did it matter? She didn't need much, now that the warm season was here, and she expected that she could forage for food on her way. If she was killed by orcs on the way, so be it. She would join her parents in the Halls of Mandos.

In the bed across from her lay Seren, her hair fanned out around her as she slept, a slender hand rested on her chest. Amdir studied her. Her friend's breath had been long and even for some time now, and with a silent prayer, Amdir quietly rose and removed her pack from below the bed.

She knew that some of Thranduil's hosts guarded the front of her tent, so she tried her luck by crawling under the canvas behind her bed. They were close to the edge of the encampment and luckily, most of the men were deeply asleep after the feast, and there was nobody to witness a small darkly-clad body emerging from beneath the canvas into the cool night air. She was grateful for the dark clothes a serving man had brought her and adjusted her dark headscarf, grateful for its concealment.

The moon was dark, but the inky blue night was no impediment for Amdir's sharp young eyes as she slipped through the grassy terrain, slowly but stealthily making her way towards the forest where they had fought the orcs earlier that day.

She had expected to be stopped by guards, whether they be human or elven, with every step, yet to her wonderment, she tred beyond the pale of the sheltered valley and entered the dark forest within a few hours unmolested. A few times she felt herself being watched, and she paused, waiting, her senses on high alert for the slightest sound of human breath. But each time she heard nothing. She knew the Men of the Brown had sentries, where they allowing her to pass? Something was amiss.

Once under the cover of thick black boughs, she again stopped and listened. She heard the sound of small animals scurrying behind the brush and the electric song of cicadas from above in the trees, but despite her instincts telling her she was not alone, she head nothing out of the ordinary. Cautiously she continued on, finding the path where they had walked earlier, belatedly realizing she would have been better off had she thought to steal one of Uldor's horses. She adjusted her head scarf and stepped into the shadows at the edge of the path. While the terrain was less even, it provided easier concealment should sentries search for her.

The night was at its darkest when she heard a sharp crack of a dry twig, then footsteps.

She was not afraid of orcs; orcs carried with them a smell of sweat and feces she could detect at quite a distance. Rather, she recognized these lithe steps for what they were: Elven, and wondered if they had been tracking her, or waiting for her.

Either way, she was not going to make it easy, and she hastened her step, silently jogging through the brush, using her intuition alongside her sight to guide her until she came across a large stream she did not remember crossing when they entered.

She paused, recalibrating her sense of direction, when she heard the rustling of the trees. She made to leap into the shadows but her reflexes were a moment too late and a pair of steely hands grabbed her arms and held her back. She turned to look at her captor only to see he wore the brown and green tunics of her people. Behind him another elf stepped forward, his silver hair absorbing the starlight, and she sighed in frustration. The elf holding her released his grip and she fell into a deep curtsey.

"Come, Amdir, we have much to discuss," Thranduil said, and motioned for her to join him on a fallen log at the edge of the water while Feren kept watch behind them.

She glared at Feren, who offered her the barest of shrugs, then she reluctantly sat down, but she kept her back straight and refused to look at Thranduil. In truth she was too angry at him for words, and it was unsettling. The Elf-King was not someone one could  _be_  angry with, at least not expressively so, and the sensation was entirely new. An entire day of firsts, she mused bitterly, and now he had shown up to drag her back. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her react. She kept her mouth closed and stared straight ahead.

"You move quickly. You were almost at the forest before we even knew you had gone."

She said nothing.

"I don't blame you. Today has been quite a shock for you," he said, tilting his to the right as he spoke as though assessing her reaction.

She bit her lip to keep from saying anything, but she glanced up at him. The darkness had transformed his face into a series of deep hollows and bright planes, and even in darkness he was beautiful, and she loved him like a father. She longed to ask of him why he had traded her like chattle, to rail against him, but in truth she already knew the answer. There was nothing Thranduil wouldn't do to save his people, yet she felt the sting of his betrayal keenly.

"You are angry. You wonder why I didn't tell you first?"

She lowered her eyes, hating that he was right. "I do not presume to question my King," she answered.

Thranduil exhaled through his nose. "Enough. We both know that I am more than your King, you are like a daughter to me, part of my house. I can feel your disappointment, and I acknowledge it."

She furrowed her brow and stared at the shadows on the ground. She heard a small rumble of frustration, almost like a growl, from Thranduil's throat. She was not making this easy for him and the realization gave her a measure of comfort.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped.

"Amdir," he said, more gently, turning his head to look at her. "It was never my intent that you marry into the Kingdom of Rhun. How that damned King even learnt of your existence is beyond me.

She looked up at him, and with a small shake of his head, he continued. "When a marriage pact between the kingdoms was suggested, I supported the idea, but you were not the bride I had in mind. When King Ulwarth spoke your name, I almost withdrew, but I thought that I could save you this fate while still brokering an alliance.

"It is for this reason I sent you to Lothlorien, and I hoped to keep you there until an alternative arrangement could be made. What I did not anticipate was that that reckless Easterling would take things into his own hands and you'd end up here." His hand rose to encompass the land with a small gesture. "I am most sorry for what you have been through, my dear."

She stared at the running water, although now she was also leaning forward, her posture mirroring his. "How did you know I'd be here? Were you watching me?" The memory of Haldir's body arching over her came into her mind, and she suppressed a shiver of fear at the thought that Thranduil had seen them.

He gave her an amused sideways glance. "I didn't have to. I raised you, Amdir. I knew exactly what you'd do,"

She straightened her back. No, he did not know exactly what she'd do. For one, he did not know she would give herself to Haldir, he did not know that when Seren had been injured, she'd faced the Men of the Brown on her own. He didn't know that, after the flood, it had been she that had searched for the bodies. It occurred to her that, however well he had known her as an elfling, these events had changed her, and he knew about as much about her as she knew about herself, and it was precious little. "And now you've come to retrieve me and bring me back to the camp?"

He frowned. "No. I've come to help you. I have food, travelling clothes and gear. I also bring you a companion for your protection."

She blinked. Apparently she was not the only one capable of suprises. She rose and looked towards the other elf standing guard. "But surely you would not ask your own body guard to go with me?"

"Not Feren," said Thranduil.

The King's closest protector looked at her, then turned his head back towards the forest where another elf emerged from the trees.

Amdir whirled back to Thranduil, eyes blazing. "Why are you doing this to me? What have I done to displease you that you would treat me like this?"

The King's face did not change but for a single raised eyebrow. "I do not mistreat you. I am giving you the opportunity to make an informed decision."

"By forcing me to wed that man?!" She pointed violently at the dark haired elf who now stood beside Feren.

"He is an elf. Now calm down, and remember to whom you speak."

Her hand instantly dropped, but the anger she felt would not abate and she looked at him with narrowed eyes rapidly filling with tears of frustration.

"I have a suggestion to make," he said calmly.

"One that has already been discussed with Uldor, I take it?"

Thranduil's mouth quirked. "No. I wanted to put this to you both. Uldor, you may approach, I do not think your intended will strike, although I cannot promise, given her current state of mind."

Amdir sat down heavily on the log and glared at Uldor as he stepped forward. He nodded to Thranduil. "My Lord."

Thranduil walked a few paces away then turned back to face them. "When I met my Queen, she had recently arrived in Mirkwood from a place where she had lived alone for much of her life. I visited her there once, a small cottage in the midst of an ancient green forest. It was beautiful and, were I not a King, we would live there now.

"Amdir, I wish for you to handfast with Uldor, and together you can live in Fangorn Forest, in Isobel's cottage, alone, for the space of one year. If, after a year, you prefer to live apart, then there will be no wedding and you are each free to do what you wish in the future, not that there will be much of a future in such a case, but that is beside the point.

"If you both choose to stay together, or Amdir finds herself with child, you will marry in Rhun before that King. Amdir, take the time to get to know your prospective husband. Uldor, spend some time under the canopy and learn what it is to be an elf. It is the only middle ground I can offer. What say you?"

Uldor nodded solemnly and two pairs of eyes fell on Amdir. She stood and smoothed out her tunic. She took a deep breath, then walked to Uldor and stared into his face.

"This is not what I want."

"We all make sacrifices for the greater good."

"What are you sacrificing?"

"The ability to live freely with my men. Go where I wish, Do as I choose. The trust of those who have chosen to follow me, and who will feel that they have been abandoned when they awake tomorrow and I am gone. What do you give up?"

"The one I love."

Uldor stared. "That is a heavy sacrifice indeed."

She narrowed her eyes at him."How would you know? Have you ever loved someone like that?"

"No, I have not. But I have led men and women into battle. I understand the bonds of friendship and brotherhood and that,when the weight of responsibility lies heavily around one's neck, the only way to lessen that burden is to share it. For all that we give up, we have an opportunity to bring peace to our kingdoms. To improve the lives of countless people. For that, I am willing to make whatever sacrifice is requested of me."

She bit her lip, considering. "After one year, you will release me if I desire it?" she said.

He nodded "I told you already that, when you come to me, it will be by choice. That is the only way."

The moments lengthened and Thranduil asked again, quietly, "What say you both?"

"Aye," said Uldor.

"Aye," said Amdir, but more quietly.

Thranduil stepped towards her and looked at her carefully, his eyebrows furrowed. "You are certain?"

"Aye," she whispered.

The silver haired king closed his eyes for a moment, and Amdir saw his adam's apples bob in his throat. He looked away for a split instant then returned to the couple.

"Then let it be done," he said.

Uldor and Amdir stood in front of Thranduil, and Feren left his post to stand beside Amdir. The King's body guard handed a length of white linen to Thranduil who joined the elves hands and tied the linen around their wrists.

"I declare you handfast," said the King. "May the blessing of the Uvatar shine on this union."

Then he untied the linen and it was done. Feren handed two bags to Uldor as Thranduil reached out to embrace Amdir. But she turned away from him, and walked towards the raven-haired elf with her face held high and tears streaming down her cheeks. Uldor and Thranduil exchanged a long look, then Uldor nodded and the two elves disappeared into the velvety blackness of the forest that separated the hidden valley from the rest of the Brown Lands.


	13. We Are Elves

It was déjà vu. They walked in silence, Amdir in front, Uldor following closely behind through the forest until the black night turned grey with the promise of dawn. The forest lands began to descend via rocky steppes that were at first were covered by trees and bracken, then gentled into tall grass that soaked them with its dew.

But Amdir didn't notice the discomfort of her wet leggings, nor did she care about the changing colours of the sky. The rage that had filled her earlier had numbed as she continued walking ahead of Uldor. She welcomed the sense of disassociation. It was almost a comfort. But occasionally, her mind would draw her back into the present and she would question herself.

Why was she doing this? What was to stop her, even now, from veering north and making her way back to Lorien then home to… She bit her lip. Not Mirkwood. She could never trust Thranduil again, damn him. Alone, she could go to Lothlorien, but with Uldor, she was homeless.

Uldor. She couldn't get rid of him. Either her own conscience demanded his presence, or the few times she'd tried to make her own way, wasn't Thranduil there to place the Easterling in her path yet again. She breathed deeply.

No, she would never go to Mirkwood again, and she doubted Uldor would ever be welcome in Lorien. No wonder the King has suggested Isobel's cottage in the depths of Fangorn.

Damn Thranduil. Damn Uldor. This was not the life she wanted.

She continued a few steps, then suddenly sat down on a outcropping of unyielding black rock, quite at odds with the softness of the tall grass, and she rested her elbow on her knee, her chin in her hand.

Uldor raised an eyebrow as he passed her, and he walked ahead a few metres before stopping to take in the view, his tall body silhouetted against the red and pinks of the morning sun. He turned around and made his way back to sit down beside her.

Although the two had been cordial enough, the air between them was heavily charged. Amdir didn't want to speak to the Easterling, and instead she angled her back to him, avoiding his gaze entirely.

So far, he had been patient and not forced her to speak, nor had he tried to be overly friendly. She dared a sidelong glance; his face was drawn and, if anything, he looked tired.

She sighed, and he blinked and looked at her. She thought she saw a ripple of irritation in his face, but he turned his attention to rifling through the food pack and passed her some hard cheese and soft bread. Her stomach was in knots, yet she forced herself to eat, knowing she'd need her strength for the journey.

As the food permeated her blood stream, she began to feel nominally better. She looked at Uldor's profile again. She discreetly (she hoped) ran her eyes over his thick black lashes and green eyes as he ate, his gaze never leaving the horizon in front of them.

Where she slouched, he sat straight, shoulders squared. He had the sinewy strength of a runner, and she realized that there would probably be some ellyn who might consider him handsome. She had, before. The day she'd translated for Haldir. Compared to the Lothlorien march warden, Uldor was the opposite, dark where Haldir was fair, flippant where Haldir was serious, and closed where Haldir was an open book.

He looked at her suddenly, his eyes catching her gaze.

"A week," he said.

"Pardon?"

He popped the last of the cheese in his mouth then brushed his hands together to dislodge crumbs and began to repack the bags. "A week, more or less, depending on weather and…well, mostly weather."

"Weather and what else? Are you referring to orcs or other travelers?"

He stood up and surveyed the sloped landscape yet again with a deep frown, hands on his hips. "Let's hope not. But we should have a plan, just in case."

It felt good to talk to him. It felt good just to talk. She hoisted her pack behind her shoulders and, while securing the straps, she said "For example?"

"Run."

She rolled her eyes as they began to walk. "Fantastic plan, so impressive."

He snorted. "What it lacks in complexity, it makes up for in efficiency. But it's true. If we run into orcs, I will do what I can, but you are no fighter, Amdir."

"Really?"

His fingers reached up to trace his left jaw and he smirked. "Despite your current views of me, I'm no orc, and you've been in enough orc battles to know the difference. Besides, it's what we did last time, and you didn't question me then. You will run, and I will find you once I can."

Of course he was right, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that. She shrugged. "If you say so."

She pushed passed him and kept her gaze on the countryside ahead of her. The land sloped so steadily now that ahead of them, a hawk languidly rode a rising air current, and although the bird was a ways off, its wings were level with their eyes.

She turned back to look at him, only to find him staring, green eyes steady but inscrutable. It irritated her how carefully he watched her, he was probably worried she'd run away. If only. She made no attempt to conceal her sigh as she kept walking, right past Uldor. Maybe if she walked far enough ahead, she'd forget he was there all together.

"What in Mando's Halls is the matter with you?" A quiet voice from behind her asked. She turned around, eyes brows raised. "Excuse me?"

He stood staring at her, shaking his head. "I asked, what in Mando's Halls is wrong with you?"

She took a step forward, tilting her head as she glared. "Nothing is 'the matter' with me. But clearly something is the matter with  _you_. Would you mind please not staring at me with that look on your face?"

He looked away as he ran his hands through his hair, then began walking quickly, marching right past her. She watched him go, and quickened her step to catch up. Her heart was beginning to pound. She wanted to fight with him. She needed to release some emotion and took childish satisfaction in knowing she'd riled him.

"I know you are not happy with this situation," he said, his voice clipped, not bothering to look back at her. "You have made that abundantly clear. Yet every time you were given an out, you did not take it. You agreed to this, nobody forced you here, so why are you so miserable?"

She was about to tell him where he could take his opinion of her, but he turned around to face her and she almost walked into him. She pulled back with a small gasp and when she looked up, his eyes bore into hers, demanding an answer.

Amdir knew Uldor was right, and she was starting to feel more than a little foolish. She  _was_  acting like a child and perhaps there was little satisfaction to be had after all. She wondered for a moment if she should apologize, but he didn't give her the chance.

"I liked you more when you were simply aggressive. The punch back in Lorien? That I can respect, but this passive aggressive sulking needs to stop." He strode ahead, turning back to look at her every now and then, his motions sleek, graceful and unpredictable, and she slowed her pace, creating some welcome distance.

"Like it or not," he continued. "We are in this together. You agreed to it. I agreed to it. There is no point in sulking about it, it will only cause this to fail, and you forget why we are doing it. For our people. So if you still believe in that cause, when we get to Fangorn, you will not complain. Together we will try to make this work so that our marriage can bring peace to our people and to each other. And if you don't want it, if you've changed your mind, then for the love of the Lluvatar, turn around and march back to your King right now, because if I have to hear another sigh from your lips, I will deliver you to Mordor myself. What's it going be Amdir?"

Nobody had ever talked to her like this and his words, despite the truth of them, cause her blood to surge and her heart to pound. What in the Valar was she doing? She wanted to simultaneously fight with the dark elf standing in front of her while at the same time just talk to him, for she realized that she was very, very lonely and more than a little afraid.

She closed her eyes, desperately trying to master the tears that threatened to spill over. Unable to say anything, she began to walk past him but he grabbed her arm, his fingers pressing into her flesh, causing her to gasp and try to wiggle out of his grip.

"Stop it!" she hissed at him and he immediately released her. She pulled back, her arm rubbing her bicep. "I will have bruises by tomorrow thanks to you!"

He closed his eyes for a few moments, his lips forming a thin line. She wondered for a moment if perhaps he might feel the same combination of anger, fear and sadness that she did. With a slow inhale, Uldor opened this eyes again.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said more quietly, and rather than the quick retort she would normally have lobbed his away, she simply nodded, and despite her earlier efforts, tears stung her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away, embarrassed that he should see her cry.

He watched her in silence, and when she finally had the courage to look back up at him, he nodded.

"Come Amdir, we are losing time," he said.

Her heart breaking, she took one last look at the treeline behind them that had grown minuscule in the distance, knowing that Haldir was on the other side of that deep green, then she turned back around to face the tall dark haired ellon standing in front of her. She wasn't sure if she hated him or respected him. She was quite sure she did not  _like_  him.

He offered her his hand to lead her over a steep divet and, with a small nod, she accepted.

* * *

The day passed in relative silence. Onwards the elves pressed, only now they retreated into themselves more because of exhaustion than any force of emotion.

Even before the sun sank in the late spring sky, Amdir felt shattered and longed to rest. Although Uldor carried himself straight as he walked, she knew he must be exhausted as well and her suspicions where confirmed when, in the midst of a large field of tall grass, the green-eyed ellon stopped in his tracks and said, "We rest here tonight."

They pitched no tent. The sky was clear and dry, and the grass was tall enough to hide them from view provided they kept their heads down.

As Amdir sat down on an oiled blanket that would serve to protect both of them from the wet of the morning drew, and her weary limbs sank into the cushion that the soft grass beneath the blanket provided, she didn't think that keeping her head higher than the grass grew would be a problem.

Even Uldor's proximity, something that she'd consider overly-familiar in any other circumstance, did not bother her. She laid back and closed her eyes, and felt the welcome wave of comforting darkness overtake her.

"Amdir."

She bolted awake. "Pardon? Yes. What?"

Uldor smiled, the first time she could recall him smiling since they'd met. "Eat first, then sleep. I'll watch over us for the night."

She sat up, noticing that he had already prepared bread, cheese and a dried haunch of meat for them. "No, no Uldor. You must be tired too. We'll take turns," she said, brushing her hair out of her face and sitting up. She smiled belatedly, a gesture of good will, but it couldn't have been that convincing for Uldor simply shook his head and repeated his assertion that she would sleep while he watched over her.

She sank back down to her side and nibbled on the meat, while Uldor sat cross legged. He held a small ivory knife and began to carve a piece of wood that he pulled out of his bag. She had planned to ask him what he was making, but even before she could make a dent in the meat, her head was back on the blanket. Her last thought was a memory of her naneth, tucking her in and saying, 'don't worry, meleth, sometimes sleep is as good as food.'

* * *

She awoke with a start and panic surged through her as she struggled against an oppressive weight that held her down tightly. It was pitch black around them and the weight was Uldor's arm. "Shhhh," he whispered. "Stay silent, orcs."

Her body stilled, and she strained to hear what Uldor was hearing. They lay still and silent in the grass, hidden from sight, safe, provided no orcs came close enough to catch their scent, but she heard what he heard; a party moving across the Wold from a distance away. It was a large group too. She made a silent prayer for anyone who might encounter this party, and of course, for the Men of the Brown and those she loved to stay safe.

She exhaled and laid her head back down on to the blanket, beneath Uldor's hand that still lay over part of her cheek, fingers curving around the back of her skull. He lightened the weight of his hand and leaned close to her again, removing it only long enough to touch his index finger to his lip, then it returned only this time around her shoulders and, to Amdir's own surprise, she moved closer to him.

Uldor smelled like leather and grass and, despite being the middle of a field teeming with orcs, despite having nothing but grass to hide them, despite even the uncertainty of her future, at this very moment in time, and against all the odds, she felt safe with him.

"Go back to sleep, Amdir. I'll wake you if we need to move,"

She raised an eyebrow although her heart raced. As though she would sleep in the middle of this. But soon the sound of the orc patrol party faded, and the gentle scurrying mice through grass and the occasional low throaty croak of a male toad seeking a mate replaced it.

The wind picked up slightly and the sound of rippling grass reminded her of a great body of water. The thought of being afloat in an ocean of grassland with this warrior at her side, protecting her, was oddly comforting, and her fear receded to a dull scratch at the base of her spine that, for at least a few hours, she was able to ignore.

* * *

When she awoke again, sunlight was warming her back, and an eagle cawed in the distance. She opened a bleary eye and, for a few confused moments, wondered where she was. Then she turned her head and saw Uldor sleeping beside her on his back, hands behind his head. After a deep stretch, she sat up and carefully raised her head above the level of the grass to look around.

The sky was a spotless blue and the sun strong and bright. Ahead of her, the green gold of tall sweetgrass stretched out like plush velvet as far as she could see, moving in gentle waves that broke apart at those spots where small streams crisscrossed the land. It was so different from Greenwood. So open. So unprotected.

To her left, Uldor was stirring. He lowered one arm and looked up at her, his green eyes blinking in the sunlight, black lashes casting thin shadows across the top of his sharp sun-browned cheekbones.

"I waited until morning to fall asleep," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

"It seems safe enough," she said lightly.

He levered himself up and looked around, picking up the water skin and helping himself to a long drink.

"There is a settlement to the south of us, on this side of the Anduin. It will take an extra day, but it would mean a proper crossing with a boat, and I thought that might make you feel safer."

"A human settlement?"

He looked at her. "No, an orc settlement."

She narrowed her eyes. "With you, anything is possible."

He smirked. "Perhaps so, but I count the people of this village friends. Have you ever been to human settlement?"

The sun was hot and she could feel sweat beginning to trickle down her back and between her breasts. She rose and stripped off the top layer of her tunic revealing the cotton undershirt she wore beneath. Then she nodded her head no. While she had met a few humans when they'd travelled to the King's Halls to petition Thranduil for something, she'd never gone with his retinue to their abodes. She rolled the heavy tunic tightly and stuffed it into her pack.

"Are you doing that on purpose?"

She blinked and looked at him, her eyes a question. He waved his hand in the direction of her shirt. "This… display right now."

Her eyes widened. "Taking off my tunic?"

"Why would you do that?"

She paused, feeling suddenly self-conscious about the thin sleeveless top that barely concealed her curves. Elves were rarely modest about their bodies, and the idea of being self-conscious or the need to hide anything simply didn't exist. Until now. She furrowed her brow in confusion. She wasn't exactly sure why, but her instincts told her this had to do with culture. Uldor had, after all, been raised by Easterlings.

"I am an elf, Uldor, we do not hide our bodies in the way that I have been told humans do. Do I offend you?"

His eyes did not leave her, and the air thickened between them. The chirping of birds and the sound of grass swaying in the breeze faded till all she could hear was his shallow breath, and she noticed the flick of his lashes as his eyes dipped down to her breasts for the barest of moments.

He looked away and rose to his feet with a slow exhale. "Forgive me, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. You are right, it's very different in the world of men. In my world, modesty is a virtue and women do not flaunt themselves."

Her mouth dropped opened and an incredulous laugh escaped. "Women do not flaunt their bodies? Why? Because human men are unable to control themselves? Good thing we are elves, and not beholden to archaic human ideals…or desires. Now it is hot, and if my choice of attire offends you, look away."

He shook his head. "I'm just saying that, when we get to this village, you will want to cover up and in doing so will appear much less conspicuous. Much less…elven."

She exhaled and shifted her weight impatiently. "Fine. And for now?"

His eyes held hers steadily and he took a step towards her. "We are elves," he said quietly. He studied her for a long moment, then suddenly stepped back and pulled his own tunic over his head. He wore no undershirt, and when he revealed the lean muscular lines of his shoulders and chest, a feeling that felt suspiciously like human desire rose up in Amdir, and it was her turn to stare.

With a flicker of amusement in his eyes, Uldor hoisted his pack over one bare shoulder and began to walk.


	14. Riverglen

The town began as a few small cottages with thatched rooves, surrounded by muddy pig pens, one or two skinny cows each, and a few sheep grazing in the distance. As they rounded the top of a large hill, the town of Riverglen, nestled tightly against the river, came into view.

Amdir studied it with interest. The Mighty Andiun wrapped herself around the town, providing a border to the west and south. The buildings were stone built, and some had thatched rooves, but others, she could see, had wood shingles and stone chimneys that cheerfully puffed grey woodsmoke into the air.

The day had gone from warm to almost hot, but Amdir and Uldor put on their tunics and took turns loosely braiding each other's long hair to cover their ears and attract less attention. She wished they had cloaks to conceal their faces, but Uldor assured her that the town was friendly, if not curious, about elves, and while they couldn't hide what they were, most of the townsfolk would keep their distance.

She entered the village at Uldor's side, in wonder at the sudden noisiness of her surroundings, and then it hit her. She had heard that human villages were not as pristine as their elven counterparts. She had heard the words 'rugged', 'rustic' and 'resilient' used to describe them, but the word that suited her first impression best was 'rancid.' The stench of so many unwashed human bodies in one small area almost bowled her over.

She lifted her hand to cover her nose, but Uldor gently reached out and lowered it with a discreet shake of his head. The Easterling seemed happily oblivious to any such smells, and greeted his human acquaintances with nods of the head and smiles, and even, on one occasion, tousled the flaxen hair of a young child who stared at them with wide eyes and an open mouth. "Go tell your father we're here," Uldor said, tossing the child a small coin that the young one hid in his pocket as he darted away.

"Do they all know you?"

"To a degree. Those who don't know me know of me. Two years ago, the Men of the Brown fought back a hoard of orcs who were on a mission to collect the town's grain stores. The town's mayor – a vile man - had made an arrangement with a Mordor Lord for much gold. We fought back the orcs and imprisoned the mayor on behalf of the town."

"So you are a hero to these people," she said thoughtfully.

He shrugged away the suggestion just as an older man, dressed in rags but dignified nonetheless, raised a gnarled hand to his forehead and said, "Welcome back, my lord."

Amdir raised her eyebrows, and Uldor looked away with an embarrassed smile. It was so unexpected that Amdir felt her heart lighten and she bit her lip to keep her own smile from growing as they made their way down the narrow, cobblestoned road.

Uldor walked quickly and Amdir found herself struggling to stay close to him so she could hear him talk.

"Compared to elves, even compared to orcs, people are physically weak," he said."They can be short-sighted, and their brief lives are often hungry, but that's what makes their valour so extraordinary. What little time they have, they happily risk to save their neighbours. And after a battle, despite their losses, they will come together and celebrate life with ale, song and coupling."

She looked up him quizzically. "I think that perhaps you romanticize them," she said, earning herself a sideways glance that was less than pleasant. "I have heard very different accounts of both the strengths and shortcoming of men. They are weak, easily tempted, too passionate, unreliable and unwise." She belatedly remembered that the ellon she was talking to was also half-human, and quickly changed the subject."And what is ale?"

He looked up to the sky and shook his head. They had stopped in front of a low wood door with a large iron handle. Above was a sign that read Public House and featured a picture of a goose.

"You're about to find out," he said, and pulled open the heavy door.

Amdir almost chocked on the thick smoky air inside. It was a long room lined with crude trestle tables where sat a number of men and women; travelers or perhaps merchants from the looks of the folk at one table, and farmers in tell-tale homespun trews who sat at the end of a second long table.

Above them the rafters of the low ceiling were stained black from years of smoke, and near the end of one wall was a large wooden counter. Behind it stood a women with grey hair pulled back into a tight bun who offered them a warm smile.

"It's a bar," whispered Uldor, and Amdir nodded, trying to appear nonchalant and not stare.

After greeting Uldor, most of the humans looked at her curiously and offered her a small smile or a slight bow, but beyond the odd 'welcome, my lady', they said little, although their curiosity was clear as they talked amongst themselves in loud whispers, glancing over at the elves periodically.

Uldor sat down at the end of a long table close to the bar and Amdir sat beside him. The grey bunned woman placed two large pewter mugs filled with foamy gold liquid in front of them.

"Would you and the lady be hungry, Lord Uldor?" she asked offering them a toothless smile. "I've a lamb stew today and the bread just came out of the oven an hour ago."

Uldor smiled. "Bring the bread and some of that cheese I liked so much last time I was here. And water."

She nodded and left them to each other. Uldor raised his glass and took a deep swallow. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked quite satisfied. Amdir studied the white foamy top of the ale suspiciously.

"Try it."

She took a small sip them pushed it away with a violent shudder. "How can you drink that?"

He chuckled at her reaction. "It's an acquired taste, and in towns like these, it's often better than the water."

She grimaced again. "I'll stick to water, hannon-le."

She was about to comment on the scents of the village, but the barmaid showed up with two trenchers of cheese, fresh bread, and two large mugs of water. A tall man followed her to their table and waited until the food was set and the barmaid had left, before stepping forward.

Uldor lifted Amdir's ale and passed it to the man, who, after a long drink, set the stein back on the table then extended his hand to Uldor with a grin. Returning the smile, the Easterling rose and grasped the man's hand in greeting.

Amdir went to rise but again Uldor discreetly shook his head and she remained sat.

The human man stared at her with curious blue eyes. He was handsome. Well-built with broad shoulders and shiny brown hair that hung to just above his collarbone. A neatly trimmed beard covered his lower jaw and he wore grey leggings with a plain leather tunic over a white shirt and tall black brown boots. He stood almost as tall as any elf and his strength was palpable.

"May I present the Lady Amdir, my betrothed."

The man's eyebrows rose and he looked from Amdir back to Uldor with a grin.

"Lady Amdir. The honour is mine, and may I offer you congratulations on your upcoming marriage."

Amdir stared for a moment, then nodded and lowered her eyes.

"Sit down, Caleb. Finish the ale and tell me, what news from the Wold?"

The man complied and, after another sip, he began.

"Bands or orcs roam freely now, edging closer and closer to the town. The defenses your men built still hold, but for how long I don't know. The dark Lords of the lands to the East are preparing for something. We know they build up their armies because other villages continue to get raided for food and supplies. They leave nothing; children starve, and each week, more refugees from the countryside pour into Riverglen and we do what we can to rehouse them. We know there have been skirmishes across the river to the south west in Rohan, and we hear that their King is still not recovered. It's an illness that affects his mind, and good riders, warriors even, are exiled from that land. It is troubling to say the least, Lord Uldor."

He paused, staring at the brew with a frown, then he suddenly looked up. "When the time comes, will we have your support once more?"

Uldor sat back and looked around the room with a troubled exhale. "Then men we had arranged to arrive next week to train your forces were lost in a flood less than a fortnight ago. I have arranged for two others, but The Men of the Brown grow thin."

Caleb leaned in and lowered his voice. "I have heard that the Elven lords wish to treat with you, in hopes of securing the support of Rhun should war come to Middle-earth. Is this true?"

Uldor gave Caleb a long look then snorted. "Where did you hear this?"

Caleb had the grace to lower his eyes for a moment. Then he looked around the room and leaned in closer, his face earnest and his eyes imploring the elves to listen.

"They search for you, Lord Uldor. They do not support this union," his eyes flitted to Amdir, "Begging your pardon, my lady, but you must be warned."

She nodded and he continued.

"That flood was no act of nature. I heard that the Lords cast a spell to prevent the Lady from arriving at your camp. They did not know that you traveled with the Lorien elves. They say the Elven King himself heard of the plot before it happened and rushed south in an attempt to save the Lady, but even he arrived too late. It was luck that she survived, begging your pardon again, my lady."

Thranduil had not come to marry her off, he had come himself to save her! She gasped, earning a few looks from around the room, and promptly closed her mouth and sat straighter.

She leaned forward. "Are you saying that I am marked? That Mordor not only knows who I am, but that it's powerful lords wish to kill me? How can that be….?"

Caleb looked to Uldor for help and the Easterling looked down at his ale, wrapping his hands firmly around the stein, his lips a tight line.

"Amdir, you have become a pawn; this is true. Until my uncle, King Ulwarth, spoke your name, nobody knew of you. Before he chose you to wed me, your existence was inconsequential. Ulwarth knows that the best way to weave peace between Rhun, Mirkwood and Lothlorien is through this marriage to you. Thus the best way to destroy this treaty and force Rhun into serving Mordor is to…well…"

"To destroy me."

Uldor nodded, his face was not without compassion. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the fact that those two men had died because of her, and that Haldir's brother, Orophin, had almost died in that earlier attack, and that too, was probably aimed at her. She felt sick.

"How is it that you know all of this, Master Caleb?" she said, miraculously keeping her voice level, although she knew her hands trembled.

Uldor placed his hand over her forearm, and Caleb immediately sat back and lifted the ale to his mouth. "A fine question, my lady, almost as fine as the ale they serve. Lord Uldor, what service may I offer you today?"

"We must get the Lady across the river. From there we will go to a place of safety till the treaty is complete. When that treaty is in place, your lands will be safe, my friend. Both man and elf-kind from the west, north and east will fight together to defend Middle-earth from The East Havens across to the Grey Mountains, and south at least to Rohan. I will do everything we can to make that happen. I pledge you this."

Caleb said nothing, his face serious, but his eyes bright with hope. Finally, he said "Like in the songs of old. Man and elf coming together. Is it possible?"

Amdir glanced at Uldor with his dark olive skin and jet-black hair, and a surge of pride rose in her, and for the first time, she understood what it meant to be at this Easterling's side and the honour that she had been given. It struck her what this marriage and this treaty meant to all the realms of Middle-earth.

Without thinking, she grasped Uldor's hand and squeezed it, and the Easterling looked at her with surprise. Amdir turned to Caleb, she knew her face was flushed. "And I too, pledge this," she said.

Caleb smiled and politely looked away, and Uldor summoned the elderly barmaid to the table. "Please show Lady Amdir to a room." To Amdir he said, "I will join you later, for now, rest."

The men stood, and Amdir followed their lead, suddenly conscious of the those around her, taking note of everyone who looked up, the quiet figures in the corner she hadn't noticed before, and the small size of the door and windows.

Caleb offered her a respectful nod and Uldor's dark green eyes rested on her face. "You are quite safe," he said quietly, and Amdir bit her lip and nodded in return, then turned to follow the old woman up the stairs, hoping against hope that Uldor was right.

* * *

A few hours later there was a knock at the wooden door to the room where Amdir rested. Startled, she leapt up, and it took a moment to remember where she was. Riverglen. Men. Uldor. The knock sounded again, this time more persistent.

"Amdir, it's me. Open up!"

She exhaled in relief and crossed the room to unbar the door. Uldor entered carrying two cloaks and a jug of water. His eyes took in the room with its small bed, two chairs, and the small wooden table on which sat a jug, identical to the one in his hand.

"Good," he said. "Hilda has been looking after you. Did you sleep?"

She shook her head and sat back down on the edge of the bed while Uldor laid the cloaks over a chair and poured himself some water.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Spoken like a true wife. Were you worried, my dear?"

"Do not tease me, not after what I learned today. Where  _have_  you been Uldor? I grew worried and-"

His raised his hand. "Peace, Amdir. I procured a boat, two horses and those," he said, motioning towards the cloaks.

He stood up and crossed to the room to bring her a mug of water, but she waved it away. He sat down on the bed beside her and placed the mug on the floor, and she shifted to avoid falling into the dip in the mattress his weight created. Then he turned to his side to face her. She wished he'd stay on the chair, his closeness unnerved her and was entirely unnecessary. She tried to sit as straight as the uneven mattress would allow.

Uldor was typically unperturbed and he leaned slightly back, his weight resting on his hands planted in the mattress behind him.

"You carried yourself well today. In fact, you have handled yourself very well since I met you. I am impressed, Amdir. You are growing up, and I think you will make a good queen of Rhun."

He breath hitched.

"What is it?"

She looked at him sideways, wondering exactly how much to share and coming to the conclusion that honesty was the best policy. "That is what Haldir said. That I would be a great queen, and that we would bring prosperity to your people."

The Easterling held her gaze with his habitual and unnerving steadiness, as though studying her, and looking for information beneath her words. "And when did Lorien's March Warden say this?"

She hesitated. "After the lake, when you and I talked. I returned to Thranduil's tent and they were there, fighting...naturally, and Haldir took me outside to diffuse the situation and we talked. He said that you were honourable."

Uldor listened carefully, head tilted, and when he spoke his voice was low, but Amdir didn't miss the edge to his words.

"I appreciate the positive assessment, but I can't help but wonder if the March Warden is an appropriate person to judge honour, or if he's more likely, if an opportunity were to present itself, to remove his honour like a dirty tunic and take advantage of what's on offer."

She looked away, her heart suddenly beating in her chest, remembering how she'd thrown herself at the silver-haired elf that day on the edge of the camp, and the way he hungrily accepted her affections. But they had been alone; there was no way Uldor could know what had happened, and even if he did, Amdir refused to feel shame. Her tryst with Haldir had been an act of love. Full stop.

"I hardly see how Haldir O Lorien's character is of interest to you," she replied haughtily.

Uldor exhaled slowly, then reached out to cup her chin with a degree of tightness that dispelled the idea that this was a lover's touch. "I just want to make it clear that Haldir O Lorien is of no interest to me and is irrelevant to this union. You must put whatever hopes you had for your life behind you. For your own safety and for the future of this land. Do you understand?" He continued to hold her chin.

She rose, pushing his hand way. "As you said, I carried myself well today. You may doubt my heart, but not my duty. I am here, am I not? Now what is next? I trust you brought those cloaks for a reason."

He snorted and shook his head with a wry smile. "First you spoke as a wife, now as a queen. I must endeavor to keep up," he said acerbically.

"We will cross the river tonight in darkness. The cloaks will afford us extra cover and the horses will carry us across the Wold to Fangorn quickly. Once we are there, as your King said, we are safe, for no dark Lord can breech the enchantments of that ancient wood."

"And how do we know that we have not already been spotted?"

"We don't. In fact, it's most likely that we  _were_ spotted. We certainly took little pains to cover ourselves. Mordor offers gold to its spies and you can see the poverty around us. That's why we must travel tonight."

She sighed. "It would have been safer to cross quietly while we were still north."

"Yes, but you heard Caleb say that flood was not an act of nature. It was an act of magic and had we crossed in the middle of nowhere, they would be just as likely to try again. But not here. The Lords of Mordor have their own investments in this town, and they would not risk a flood destroying the warf or the storehouses along the banks of the river. Crossing in Riverglen was the best to keep you safe and I knew you'd welcome the idea of a boat."

She walked over to the narrow window and looked down onto the street, where plainly dressed people were walking to and fro, some stopping to chat, others intent on their business. The never-ending squawking of gulls rose above the town people's voices, and farther off, a dog barked. She wondered how many of those people were in the business of reporting back to Mordor. She glanced back at him over her shoulder.

"You've thought this through."

"I'm trying."

She chewed the inside of her lip, he  _was_ trying; this much she could see. Despite his banter, there were lines of worry around his eyes and his shoulders were tense. Not that he would share this; she was starting to understand that Uldor worked hard that others would not see his stress or worry. Even now, the dark elf was staring up at her, a challenge in his eyes.

She nodded. "Then do not attack Haldir again in that way. I am trying, too, you know. I don't know what you think you know about me, or about my relationships, but let me assure you, you know nothing. The past is behind us now, and from this point forward, I only wish to discuss the future and how we survive this damnable situation we find ourselves in. Can we do that?"

He leaned back on his arms. "Yes, I believe we can."

"Good," she said, then she turned her face back to the window and rested her forehead against the glass. Already the shadows of the buildings were lengthening, but it gave her hope that before morning came, they'd be on the other side of the river, where orcs were fewer, and the distance to Fangorn considerably less. Damnable situation indeed.


	15. Little Dark Sky

The short journey from the inn to the warf was quiet. Caleb led the way, standing almost as tall as Uldor and both men led tall horses they had outfitted with semi blinders to keep them calm and steady on the water. Amdir walked beside Uldor.

The moon was a thin crescent, and the wind was perfectly still. Very few of the windows from the town glowed orange with candlelight, most were dark by now, but the three walked quietly all the same, making no noise but the soft rhythmic clop of hooves on cobbles. The warf was down a quiet street that led down a steep embankment to a wooden pier where vessels of various sizes were moored.

At the end of a particularly rickety jetty stood a long flat boat, specially made to transport both men and horses across the wide river.

Amdir looked at it with alarm. This was not the kind of vessel that could ride a wave. This ferry looked even less safe than crossing the river by rope. Although the river moved slowly, the scent of it spread fear throughout her entire body and left her trembling. Sensing something amiss, Uldor turned to her.

"Is that it?" she asked, pointing to the ferry, although it was a rhetorical question for already Caleb was handing a bag of silver to the young ferryman who stood at the edge of the jetty.

"Do not be frightened," he said.

She looked at him, but could see nothing of his face. His features were entirely obscured by the hood and the inky darkness of night.

"You were not there," she whispered. "It was horrible, and I don't think I can do it again."

"Wait here." He led the horse past her and handed the reins over to Caleb, who stood beside the ferryman. Uldor said something in a low voice and she saw both men turn to look at her. She pulled her hood father over her face.

The river looked gentle, but in the back of her mind she could hear the sound of the rushing water from a few weeks back, and she remembered the taste of it in her mouth and the sight of the dead horses. She took a step backwards and almost turned to walk back up the hill but for Uldor's quietly jogging back to her.

"Admir," he whispered, lowering his hood.

"Don't," she said. "They'll see your face."

"I want  _you_  to see me face, or at least as best you can in this darkness. Here, take my hand," he said, and she looked up at him puzzled.

"Take it," he repeated and, without waiting, he grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him. He raised his palms to her shoulders and gripped them firmly but there was comfort in his touch. She knew he could feel her shaking, and it embarrassed her, but she couldn't seem to turn it off. He ran steady hands down her arms and gently squeezed.

"Listen to me Amdir, are you listening?"

She nodded, and he pulled her closer so his face was only a few inches from hers, but far enough that, had there been light, she could still see his eyes.

"What happened last time is not going to happen again. Do you feel my hands on you?"

She nodded.

"I am not going to let you go. No matter what, until we reach the other bank and you are safe on solid ground. Now, we're going to stand here together until the shaking goes away, and then we are going to board this ferry and you're going think of nothing but my hand touching you. And you're going to think about how much you dislike me, and how terribly uncomfortable my hand makes you feel, and how you wish I would remove it. And before you know it, you will be safely riding away from the river. Can you do that?"

"I think so," she said through chattering teeth, and knowing he would not, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her. As his arms tightened, she laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes, allowing the fear to flow through her and dissipate, and letting him support her. In that moment, she was profoundly grateful for his strength and steadiness.

"You see?" he whispered into her hair. "Doesn't that feel terrible?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice muffled by his cloak, not loosening her grasp. "It really does." She felt the low rumble of his chuckle deep in his chest.

After a minute or so, her trembling subsided and she felt steady enough to pull away, but he kept his hand on her back, and once she had composed herself, she allowed him to take her hand in his own and lead her up to the ferry and over the gap.

Once aboard, they took a seat and watched as the men wrapped dark scarves around the horse's eyes and led them on board. Although the animals stayed miraculously quiet, she knew they were as nervous as she and felt a certain pity for them.

Uldor wrapped a strong arm around her shoulder and, true to his word, remained at her side for the entire time it took to cross the river, and once the ferryman had tied the boat to the moorings on the other side of the Anduin, Uldor nodded his thanks to Caleb rather than shaking the man's hand so that he could use both arms help Amdir disembark.

Caleb and the ferryman led the horses off and delivered them to Uldor, and it wasn't until he helped Amdir mount the smaller of the two horses that he went to let go of her hand. But before he could, she squeezed it tightly and smiled. "Hannon-le for being so…terrible," she said. In response, the Easterling lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. For the second time, in a day, her breath hitched and now her hand trembled for an altogether different reason. She wrapped it in her horse's mane and waited as Uldor mounted his own horse.

* * *

They rode for less than hour, more sensing than seeing the countryside, ears straining for any sounds made by orc, elf, dwarf or men. Just far enough so that Amdir could not hear the sound of water or smell its damp in the air, and with each league put between them and the river, she felt her chest relax and her shoulders drop a measure.

And as they finally made camp beside a small copse of trees, she reflected on everything she had learned that day and how there was always more to people than met the eye. King Thranduil, Uldor, even perhaps, Haldir.

She lay beside Uldor now on the oiled tarp, covered in the travel cloak he had gotten for her. It held the scent of its earlier owner, woodsmoke, horse and garlic, but she didn't really mind. Perhaps she had already grown used to the odors of human-kind.

They hadn't spoke after the ferry and now that it was over, she felt deep seated embarrassment for her fear and felt that her body had betrayed her to a degree. She had clung to Uldor because she needed him, she told herself, not because she felt any kind of emotional pull to the dark elf. Gentle humour aside, he  _had_  been terrible to her. At least in the beginning. He had kidnapped her and tied her hands. He had spoken cruelly to her and, most grievously, he had interrupted the trajectory of her long-held plans to one day wed Haldir.

But, ever since the orc attack near Lorien, he had been careful with her; thoughtful. At the lake that day, he had been kind in his words and sympathetic towards her. She knew he was not to blame for this marriage. Like her, he had been thrown into an unexpected situation and was doing his duty. But now, despite losing his men because of her, having to step down as leader to his men, and even having to return to a land where he'd watched his family die, despite all that,  _he was trying_.

What would she do if she had been forced to live as a slave in Dol Guldor, and raped every day? How hard would she become; how strong would she build her emotional walls? Yes, Uldor had a hardness to him, she could not deny that, but there was something underlying his actions that were very different than how she had first perceived him.

Uldor had fallen asleep already, on his back, hands folded over his stomach. She turned on her side and found herself studying the rise and fall of his chest. When his breathing was deep and steady, and she was sure that he was well and truly sleeping, she reached out and rested her hand lightly on him. He surprised her by raising his hand to envelop hers, and when she went to pull away, he tightened his grasp. She curled beside him and touched her head to his shoulder, and, with a deep exhale, she realized that, for the first time in weeks, she felt well and truly safe.

* * *

When she woke again, the sun was just cresting a mountain of pink clouds, and Uldor was standing in the shadows of the trees, attaching his pack to a large bay gelding. The animal's mane was the same colour as Uldor's long braid. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and levered herself up on her elbows to peer at him.

He continued tying the pack and regarded her over his shoulder. "How did you sleep?"

She slowly stood up, stretching her arms to the sky to loosen her limbs. "Terrible, actually."

"Dreaming about the river?" As he spoke he pulled the leather straps tight one last time and checked that the pack was secure.

She took a long drink from the water skin and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "How did you know that?" She walked over to the bay and patted his nose, then glanced up at the Easterling curiously.

He shrugged. "You talk in your sleep. I'll give you a few minutes to get ready. Take what you need from your pack now so I can attach it to your horse."

She walked over to the horse she'd ridden the night before. He was a pretty animal, almost black but for brown hair throughout his muzzle and flank, and he snickered at her happily, thick nostrils flaring to sniff her hand. These horses were well trained and she suspected they were battle horses, so calm was their disposition yet so steady and quick their pace.

She took a few minutes to go through her morning ablutions, a few paces away from the copse, and when she was done, she paused to really look around.

The land on this side of the river was still grassy, but the landscape was punctuated by trees and rocky variations. The land on this side of the river felt different.

When travelling east, there was a harshness once the river was crossed, a knowledge that the further east one travelled, the harder the terrain became. Travel far enough and you would encounter the great wasteland than eventually led to Rhun, or if you were more south, the dark and foreboding mountains of Mordor.

But west was another story altogether. While the land was not so different so close to the Anduin, Amdir knew that the further west they travelled, the gentler the land became.

Rock gave way to grass, grass to wild flowers, wild flowers to bracken, and bracken to lush, ancient forest. This side of the Anduin – the Wold- celebrated spring with a carpet of red and blue flowers, velvety fresh tree buds and constant parade of all manner of animals from the lone hare, heavy with a litter in her belly, to herds of deer grazing in the distance.

When she turned around, Uldor was standing by a tree beyond the horses, watching her. He slowly walked over and stood beside her, gazing in the same direction.

"When I lived in Dol Guldor," he began, "this kind of pleasure was denied me. We lived in darkness and fear. I knew instinctively that there was beauty and life beyond those black brick walls, but I never imagined I could be part of it."

In the distance a flock of sparrows flew in a curve and descended onto another group of small trees, briefly alighting, only to ascend once more into the clear sky, flying as one.

"But your camp is in a fertile valley. An oasis of sorts."

He glanced at her. "Yes, but if you go beyond the lake, it quickly turns into rocky dessert. This is different. This fertile land extends all the way to the sea, and across the sea to the undying lands. Not that an elf like me would ever be allowed there, but still…"

She furrowed her brow and looked up at him. "You chose to be an elf, not a man, so surely they would allow you entry."

They began to walk back to the horses, their feet disturbing small butterflies and bees that ascended from wildflowers.

"No, they would not, not if they knew about…well…" his voice trailed off.

"Your years in Dol Guldor? They would already know about your past, and nobody would hold it against you, In fact, your bravery in surviving your time with Maeglin would be lauded."

"Surviving? The word is serving. Or servicing, to be more crude."

She didn't know exactly what to say in reply, so she stayed silent.

He continued. "I survived, yes, but in doing so I took part in the evil. There were times when…when I almost enjoyed it. For a while it was all I knew, and while Maeglin was cruel, he could also be kind. It was kindness that had him release me before the siege, and if I accepted kindness from an evil being, doesn't that make me a shade of evil too?" He stared at his tall bay, and she saw that his eyes were empty of all emotion, as though he had somehow dissociated himself from the experiences he spoke of. Had he shown anger or sadness or even shame, she could perhaps comfort him, but this emptiness was far worse for she knew that, in this moment, he was unreachable.

She reached out to touch his arm and he flinched with such intensity that she pulled back. He made a joke and tried to laugh it off, and she smiled to dispel the moment, but under the façade, she was filled with such hated for the Evil elf Maeglin that she shuddered. His eyes flicked up. No longer empty. He had returned. "Do I frighten you still?" he said, searching her face.

She shook her head. "No, not at all. I-OH!" A black ball of something streaked past her feet. She blinked and when she opened her eyes, Uldor was crouched protectively in front of her, ready to pounce. When nothing happened, he slowly straightened. "Was it a squirrel?"

"That was no squirrel!" she said.

"Where did it go?"

"Up that tree!"

They turned their faces up and there, nonchalantly staring down at them, was a perfectly black kitten, atop a thick branch, mid-way up, languidly licking a paw.

"What in the Lluvatar's name…" he said.

"How did it even get here?"

He grinned and shook his head, his eyes returning to hers. "It must have followed us from Riverglen. That town is overrun with stray cats."

She stepped closer and craned her neck to see it better. "Well, we can't leave her…him… it there. You'll have to go up for it."

He looked at her and laughed. "Me? Not likely. I was raised in Rhun. I don't climb trees. You're the wood elf. This job is for you."

She grinned back. "True. In Mirkwood, we climb trees almost every day. But they are much larger than this. I'm not sure if this tree will support both my weight and the cat's."

Uldor cast an appraising glance at elleth and then the tree, and he shrugged. "Well, daughter of the forest, show us what you're made of."

She rolled her eyes, but true to her word, she began to climb. The kitten was only 30 or 35 feet up so she didn't have far to go, and it was a far cry from the 100 foot beech trees that surrounded Thranduil's halls or the Lothlorien mallorns that grew so tall they touched the sky.

The tree was spindly at best and she tested each union carefully, listening for cracks and feeling for unsteadiness before hoisting herself up. She looked down once only to see Uldor watching her from below, an amused smile on his lips.

When she got to the kitten's branch, she was greeted with a small 'meow' and without being encouraged, the kitten padded over to her and crawled into the crook of her arm, purring with contentment.

Amdir climbed back down, one-handed and jumped the last ten feet, landing softly without so much as jostling the kitten.

She smiled up at Uldor who leaned over her, extending a long finger to scratch the kitten's black furry head. The cat rewarded him with a mewl and it eagerly climbed over Amdir's arm and attached itself to Uldor's.

The Easterling blinked with delighted surprise and carefully lifted it under its belly and lowered it to the ground where the kitten proceeded to rub up against his leggings.

"We can't leave it here," Amdir said with a bemused smile, watching it sprawl on its back in front of Uldor's foot, then quickly roll over, rising on all fours to paw the Easterlings boot lace.

Uldor furrowed his brow and looked at it. For all its fluff, it was a skinny little thing. "It looks like it needs a good meal. What do we give it? Cheese?"

Amdir bent down and picked up again and handed it to Uldor who took it with an amusingly bewildered look on his face.

"I think the meat might be more to it's liking. Pity we have no milk. Either way, you've earned a friend Uldor. I think we'll let the cat travel with you. You'll have to give it name."

"Great, just what I always wanted: A needy interloper," said Uldor as he mounted his horse, somehow managing to cradle the cat in one hand, but for all his sarcasm, his let the kitten rest in the saddle in front of him. "There is no way I am granting this castaway a name," he announced, but in much quieter voice he said "Isn't that right, little dark sky, no name for you..." Amdir opened her mouth to tease him, but thought better of it, and simply let the handsome ellon have his moment, and the two elves began the long ride west.


	16. The Power of Words

"I always though thought the x was silent, so the name Xeluxa would be pronounced Al-ooo-ah."

"Yes, but only in certain dialects. Where I'm from we'd say Say-loo-sa but the accent i son the last syllable. It's a southern variation."

Amdir furrowed her brow and bowed her head, as she always did when she was puzzling something out. He also noticed the way she bit her lip when she was worried and that her right ear was a millimeter higher than her left ear.

He smiled to himself, careful that she didn't see him. After all, he'd already opened himself up to her quite a bit, and he'd done so without any indication of her feelings, or whether or not she was starting to leave that blasted march warden behind her. Not that he couldn't see the writing on the wall, things were looking up…

As they created more distance between themselves and the Brownlands, she laughed more, and he thought that perhaps she was starting to enjoy his company. To look at him as more than just protection.

Resting beside her each night was surprising…and wonderful. When she slept, she curled against him like a potato bug, and two nights before she had held his hand, thinking he was already asleep. He knew his presence calmed her, and she was beginning to trust him

It was odd. He was used to sleeping beside his men when out on a mission, and he had grown up in a communal environment where all the children slept in one bed, the parents in another, and often the two got jumbled up throughout the course of the night. So he was no stranger to physical contact, but intimacy was different, and he was still unsure where one stopped and the other began. His years with the Dark Lord Maeglin had separated him from that part of himself.

Yet he was charmed by this young translator, his betrothed, and how she clung to him each night, even against her own will, it would seem.

When his uncle the King had sent a letter describing the maid, Uldor had imagined a woman – nay elleth – of the elven courts. A sophisticate. Worldly. Wise. Amdir was smart, but she was no sophisticate. She had led a sheltered life and she was vulnerable yet courageous all at the same time. She was the opposite of everything he'd imagined, and he was terribly relieved.

Bit by bit, he could feel that secret part of himself returning, opening up. The dark holes in his fëa were filling with light, and, without even trying, she was stripping him of his long-standing defenses. It frightened him more than anything he had ever experienced.

As they rode abreast across the Wold, he kept one eye on their surroundings, and one eye on her.

He was the one who had suggested she practice her Rhun. In his own language she had asked him about the meaning of his tattoos, and he had explained that while some, like the symbols that lined his jaw and neck, denoted identity – name, clan and the conditions under which he was born; others, like the dots across the bridge of his nose, were merely decorative.

She'd asked if she would be forced to get tattoos when she became a princess of Rhun, and he'd assured her that she could get tattoos only if she wished it. She had laughed at that, a sound that kindled within him a deep desire to protect her.

"Uldor, are you listening?"

His attention snapped back to her, but he looked away as soon as she met his eye. "I was lost in my thoughts. I think we should make camp near that outcropping of rock."

She leaned sideways towards him, and peered at the spot where he was pointing. She nodded in agreeance. "If we rest early, I can hunt for us," he said.

She straightened her back and rubbed her backside. "Camp sounds wonderful, I've never ridden so much in my life, and every part of me is aching."

Uldor's mouth twitched. "I can well imagine," he said, shifting on his saddle, accidently arousing Nightsky, who took the opportunity to climb up his tunic and rest on his shoulder. The Easterling shook his head and closed his eyes in irritation. Damnable cat. If the Men of the Brown saw this, he'd lose all credibility.

"That cat is attached to you, Uldor."

He sighed. "I cannot imagine why."

"Perhaps it's an Easterling cat. Let's see if he speaks Rhun." She proceeded to address the kitten in a steam of strongly accented Rhun. He loved when spoke his language. Her Sindarin tongue smoothed out the edges of its harder tones, and she was filled with questions for him about grammar and pronunciation.

Starting this particular conversation was one of the best things he'd done in a long time and it took effort to appear nonchalant. But his pleasure was short lived as the kitten's claws scraped his neck. He hissed in pain, then reached up and carefully removed it, placing the cat back down on the leather saddle where it proceeded to jump off the horse's back and land in a fluffy black summersault on the grass.

"He'll be hunting for mice," she offered. Uldor rolled his eyes but watched as the kitten wandered a few meters away and began to stalk dragonflies.

In the distance, a series of tall granite formations rose up from the grass like a rocky island in the middle of the land. Boulder upon massive boulder stood like the entrance to a maze of stone, around which sprang spindly locust trees, their young leaves large enough to provide shade although not any real cover. Still, it was a good spot to make camp and offered the best protection they'd had since leaving the Brownlands.

The two elves beelined towards it; Amdir voicing her relief and Uldor silently agreeing.

After half an hour of quietly making camp and tending to the horses, Uldor bade Amdir keep her head low while he found a hare or two for dinner. It made him nervous leaving her alone, but for two days he had neither seen nor heard any sign of any activity from orc, elf or man. He figured he could risk an hour or two.

"Are you sure you'll be alright for a bit?" he asked, his voice tinged with anxiety, but also eagerness to hunt.

She paused from removing the saddle from her horse and looked back at him. He stood a few feet away, shifting his weight and keen to depart, and the way she ducked her head to hide her smile made his heart beat. She would make a wonderful Easterling princess. "Of course. I have Nightsky to protect me," she said, and her attention returned to the horse.

He didn't need to be told twice. Armed with a bow and dagger, and his broadsword tied around his back just in case, he headed out to the fields with a light step to catch a hare or perhaps fowl.

It was a few hours before dusk and the sun was yet high in the western sky, only beginning to make its slow surrender to evening.

Uldor looked around him with delight. Mice scurried beneath prickly juniper bushes that sprouted up in the shade of large mushroom shaped rocks that dotted the landscape, and a pair of red hawks lazily soared above him on a breeze that carried the rich scent of earth and wildflowers.

The land was still slightly climbing, and he knew that, within a day or so, it would plateau and remain level until they reached the forest, and there he would begin the next chapter of his life.

He had heard the stories that Thranduil's Queen had lived in Fangorn, so he knew the trees would accept him. Perhaps they would remember who he was, for it was told that the trees had knowledge that far surpassed that of elves or men. He imagined himself sitting with his back against one of them, perhaps a beech or an oak, and feeling relief that, for once, he didn't have to hide his dark secrets.

With the calm certainty that all elves, even the half-elven, hold about the world around them, he knew that arriving in Fangorn would feel like home and he continued to picture it in his mind as he lowered himself behind a small rock near a stream where fowl and fauna were likely to drink, and set his bow.

He sat in this spot for more almost an hour, long enough to kill a rabbit, and was hoping for a second when he felt the faintest of tremors vibrate up from the earth. His breath stilled in his chest, and he paused, every sense sharply focused. A few seconds more and the rumble reached his ears.

He sprinted towards a large rock back from the stream and waited. Within a minute, a column of orcs came into view, moving to the sound of large war drum strapped to the shoulders of a smallish orc, jogging ahead of the fray. Dust rose around them, simultaneously announcing and obscuring their arrival, and when the dust cleared, their dark armor was a blemish on the green of the countryside, from which flocks sparrows, swans and heron fled.

His heart beat quickly, and he willed himself to stay calm. Amdir was alone with the horses. He had to reach her before she was found.

* * *

The horses were grazing on the short turf that grew between the grey granite stones, and Amdir lay on her stomach in the grass, simply glad to take the pressure off her saddle-sore posterior. In front of her Nightsky swatted at a blade of glass she used to tickle him, and it wasn't until the horses started to paw the ground nervously and flatten their ears that she realized something was amiss.

She felt the rumble of the party before she heard them, so she scrambled up to a vantage point between two rocks to see what was coming, and when the dark column entered her view, her eyes widened with terror, there were at least 30 in the group, and she quickly ducked back down, pressing her back against the rock, praying that the animals would stay silent.

But it was not to be. She had tied the horses loosely to a small sapling, and when they pulled, the tree bent easily enough, allowing her roan to free itself and bolt across the field, in full view of the orcs. Amdir had nowhere to hide and no sword with which to mount a defense.

She heard the shouting and commands given as the party broke into two and a group of dark raiders neared her refuge. She gathered a few stones around her, tears running down her cheeks. If nothing else, she had good aim, and while she recognized impending doom when she saw it, no wood elf would go down without a fight.

When the first few orcs rounded the corner, she flung the rocks at them and hit one in the eye, only to be rewarded with four attackers knocking her down and showering her with punches. The stench of them was overwhelming, but she did her best to keep her eyes open between painful blows and violent kicks, so that she might see the sky one last time if she were to die. But the final blow did not come.

"Don't kill her yet! Take that horse and tie her to it. She's young and fresh. First, we'll take her, and after we've had our fun, we'll eat them both!"

With dark grins the orcs hoisted her to her feet and tied a thick rough rope around her wrists and laid her along the horses back, belly down, using the same rope to secure her.

Her skin crawled as one of the orcs tore a rent in her leggings and ran his hand up her bare skin on the back of her thighs. When she heard him grunt in approval, she had to stop herself from vomiting. But they began moving too quickly for the orc to touch her anymore and, thankfully, he fell behind.

Fighting to stay on the edge of consciousness, her cheek pressed against the horse, a memory played in her mind.

Uldor, untying her hands at the first orc attack back at the Celebrant. What had he said? 'Remember this… remember this one word…'

Her mouth was filled with blood and her lips badly split. Orc raiders travelled on all sides of the horse and for a moment she studied the one closest to her. Her bloodied eyes ran over his dirty face and rancid mouth. She took in his small lifeless eyes as they stared straight ahead, and his pointed ears, the only part of him that reminded her that orcs had once been elves.

Her mind shifted, and she pictured Uldor's slender hands working quickly to remove her ropes, his green eyes sparked with urgency. She saw his lips moving... 'Remember this word…'

She ran her tongue along the roof of her aching mouth and tried to speak, a bloody groan too low for the orcs to hear.

"Ahhhhh…ahrin…" she tried again. The orc jogging beside her blinked.

"Is the she-elf talking?" he narrowed his gaze at her, slowing his pace a measure, and she tried again.

"Ahhhrin." Blood coursed out of the side of her mouth and down her cheek. The orc raised his hand and the company came to a stand-still. He leaned in closer to her, his one elven feature near to her face. With her last ounce of strength, she lifted her head.

"AERINA!"

The orc gasped, then spat a curse at her, stamping his feet in frustration.

"Aerina," she repeated, lowering her head to rest on the horse's upper back again. "Aerina."

"What's she saying?" one of the orcs asked.

"Who cares what she said, just kill her so she stays quiet and we'll eat her now," said another.

A third orc pushed the two aside and leered. "Not till we've had our fun… I don't mind if she squeals a bit."

They broke into rough laughter and the head orc raised his arm and yelled "ENOUGH! We won't be raping, we won't be killing, and we won't be eating her. Not yet, anyways. This one goes to see the Master."

"But we was told to KILL HER," challenged an particularly ugly orc brandishing a badly crafted dagger. "We was told to kill and that's what we're gonna DO."

The leader responded by thrusting his own sword between the orc's shoulder blades. Amdir watched, as though in a dream, as the orc's dead body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and even the orcs looked surprised. All but the commander.

"Anyone else?" He cast a withering stare on each of the creatures and, one by one, they retreated, just as the first column that had now doubled back, joined them.

She could see that the orc who'd been talking was actually second in command, and he spoke now with the formidable leader of the battalion who was a massive creature as wide as he was tall with razor sharpened teeth and quick grey eyes that didn't miss a thing.

Their voices were like sandpaper and she regretted not knowing more of their vile language. If she survived this, she would learn The Black Speech so they could understand her before the armies of Rhun burned them alive.

He cast a long and fearsome look at Amdir, and she did not look away. He raised a non-existent eyebrow and smirked, then he walked over to her and leaned close so that his hideous breath covered her face. With a vicious sneer he said, "You better be worth it, elven-whore, or I'll have the pleasure of killing you myself."

She was still shuddering from his stench when he barked out his order: "We return to the Master!" and in a single fluid motion, the entire company changed direction and began to jog back the way they had come.

* * *

He kept his distance, crouched down behind a copse of stunted trees, and watched as the orcs gathered to speak, one pointing at Amdir, who was now trussed up to the back of his great bay horse. With growing hope, he followed the column with his eyes as they did a 180 and began to travel back the way they had come.

She had done it. She had remembered. He was confident those orcs had been sent to kill her (and possibly him), and nothing else would have dissuaded them from their evil task, and he was grateful that there were orcs in the company that must have remembered the meaning of this ancient code word. But with Maeglin dead over 30 years and Dol Guldor empty, where were the orcs taking her? Who was their master now? It didn't matter. He vowed he'd have her free by morning.


	17. Not Everything Can Be Healed

Uldor tracked the orcs for a few hours towards the river, until the dark company finally stopped to build a campsite deep in the rivervalley close to the Riverglen crossing. He remained high on the ridge, as close as he dared to go, but close enough to have a good view of the activity below.

More than a few times, as he travelled, he had felt the unease of being watched; the hair on the back of his neck stood up and his attention snapped to the sound of a heavy breath and one time he thought he heard a laugh that was quickly muffled. He trusted his warning instincts; after all, they had kept him alive these last 30 years in the Brown.

He craned his neck around to study the land behind him, but again, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He pressed his lips together. He knew something was out there, he could feel it. If they were orcs, they would have attacked by now, so who – or what – was it?

At the bottom of the great hill, they had removed Amdir from the horse and dragged her over to a corner of the camp. The light was beginning to fade, but he could just see her, curled up in a ball and guarded by a particularly tall sentry who stood with his back to her, arms crossed over his massive barrel chest. Uldor couldn't see if she had injuries at this distance, but she certainly wasn't moving that much. Perhaps she slept. If he could only get a little closer…

A twig snapped behind him, and an owl hooted. He raised his head. There were no owls in this habitat, and it was all just a little too obvious. He took a deep breath and held it in a few seconds, then exhaled, his decision made.

He carefully crept farther up the embankment till it crested in a series of jagged rocks and trees, behind which he sat and waited, carefully cleaning his nails with his dagger as the last rays of sun finally sank into the west.

They appeared.

Two elves and one man, by the looks of them. He stayed where he was and continued cleaning his nails. "Who are you and why are you following me?" he said, without looking up.

The man approached and within the blink of an eye, Uldor was up and holding his dagger to the man's throat. The two elves each drew their swords.

Uldor glared at them through narrowed eyes. They were elves alright, and identical twins by the looks of them, with matching brown hair and quick grey eyes. Like the man he held, they were dressed in the garb of northern rangers.

"I asked who you are," he said.

The two elves exchanged a glance and one dropped his sword a fraction.

"I am Elrohir, son of Elrond Peredhil, and this is my brother Elladan. The man hold is named Strider. We are rangers and we've been tracking this party of orcs for days. We know they have your companion and we thought we might be of help to you both."

Uldor regarded them carefully, then slowly lowered his knife and stepped back. The man, Strider, turned around and rubbed his neck, all the while studying him.

"Peredhil?" said Uldor.

"Half-elven," replied Elladan, resheathing his sword.

Uldor's breath hitched in his throat, and for a moment he was speechless. He resisted the urge to study them frankly, but made a mental note to speak to these elves – half-elves – later (provided they didn't give him reason to kill them.) Right now, there was business at hand, and it would be best to cooperate, at least for the time being.

"I am Uldor, son of Ulfang of Rhun, nephew of Ulwarth, King of the Easterlings. The elleth is my betrothed. Amdir, a daughter of the royal house of Thranduil."

He noticed that Strider was studying him carefully, and he turned to face the man head on. The ranger held his gaze steadily.

"I can see you are half-elven, we did not know that there were elves in Rhun" said Strider. "Who is your mother?"

The question unnerved him; it was none of this ranger's business. "My mother is dead."

"I am sorry." Strider bowed his head in apology and Uldor nodded, swallowing his irritation.

The twins sat on the ground in a single motion, and Uldor and the man followed suit. The four looked at each other curiously until Elrohir broke the silence. "If we are done discussing bloodlines, I understand there is a wood elf to recover."

"Of the House of Thranduil at that," added Elladan. "I have heard Ada speak of this elleth. What was your plan?" he asked Uldor.

The Easterling raised his eyebrows and shook his head, for even he knew it wasn't much of a plan. "I was going to wait till they slept, take out the sentry, cut her ropes, and carry her up the hill to where I've hidden my horse."

Strider nodded. "We moved your horse."

Uldor's eyes flashed and he gathered his feet below him to rise, but Strider raised his hand, palm up, to him, almost touching his arm as though to hold him down, but stopping short of actually making contact. "There is a cave nearby," he said explained. "It is safe and unknown to orcs. We left our own horses there too."

Uldor exhaled and sat back down, forcing himself to relax. He recognized his edginess and while the elves (and man) in front of him had so far been patient, he didn't want to use up their goodwill before Amdir was safe. He didn't appreciate their forwardness, but he needed their help nonetheless.

He took a few moments to study Strider. He had shaggy brown hair that hung just above his shoulders and a patchy beard. He could have taken him for a beggar, and with the hood of his cloak up, he looked entirely disreputable, but for the light and wisdom in his hazel eyes. Uldor had spent his life amongst men, and he knew there was something different about this ranger. Noble blood? Perhaps even elven blood.

"Please continue," said Uldor.

Strider nodded. "There are 30 of them and four of us."

The twins snorted. "Sounds like good odds to us," said Elrohir. "We've faced worse," agreed his brother, nodding.

Strider smirked and lowered his head, but when he looked up again, his face was serious. "Perhaps so, but the elleth's life is at risk. We must tread carefully."

His gaze met Uldor's. "Why did they not kill her as soon as they found her? This is the usual way."

Uldor looked away. "I couldn't tell you," he said, and in a way, it was an honest statement, for even if he was sure, it wasn't something he was going to share with these strangers.

Strider frowned and gave the Easterling a long look, then turned back to his ranger cohorts. "I think we need a diversion. Elladan, perhaps you could concoct something to draw their attention while Uldor, Elrohir and I make for the elleth, killing the sentries and anyone else we encounter. Once we have her, we will make for the cave and lay low for a day or two until the remaining orcs have cleared the area."

Hope rose in Uldor, and he pulled his hand down over his face and exhaled. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to work out. The others began to rise.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked, the question making the rangers pause mid-way between sitting and standing.

"Because the powers of Mordor have no mercy. We would stop a war from happening if we could, but if we can't, the west needs the power of the Easterlings to win," said Strider.

Ah, so they were well aware of the situation. So much for discretion.

"And because," Elladan continued. "We must save the elleth. We know what the orcs will do to her, even should they choose to ransom or negotiate for her. What Strider says is correct; they will treat her with cruelty, and not everyone recovers from this kind of experience. We are happy to offer our swords and bows, and our lives if that's what it takes, to save her, and her family, from this misery."

Elrohir stood beside his brother and their faces were so fierce that Uldor felt no need to question either their motivation or their ability.

"Right," said Strider, defusing the moment. "Let's get started."

Elladan grinned, and together the four made their way back to the top of the ridge, then edged out on their bellies to get a better look.

In the time they'd been talking, night had fallen, and the orcs had broke off into smaller groups, each with their own dinner fire. Occasionally the groups erupted into shouting matches or outright brawls, but otherwise it was quiet.

Uldor knew from his years at Dol Guldor that even orcs got tired, and he could tell the party below was exhausted.

"I'm thinking…fire," said Elladan, and his brother snorted. "Big surprise there," said Elrohir, and Elladan pretended to look offended.

Even Strider turned his head towards them with smile. "Do your worst, brother," he said, "just be careful, I don't want to explain to your father what happened to you if you're injured."

"And we won't carry you home, either," added Elrohir. His tone was light, but he squeezed his brother's arm.

Elladan rolled his eyes, then shot a grin at his brother and scurried backwards and began to make his way across the ridge, soon disappearing into the blackness.

Strider turned to the remaining two. "Ready?"

Uldor nodded and Elrohir drew his sword. "Let's go."

They silently crept down the side of the hill, as close to where Amdir lay as they could get, keeping low to the ground and within the edge of shadows. They were less than 20 metres away when a rough orc voice shouted, 'What's THAT?" The elves froze.

Suddenly, on the other side of the camp, a flaming cart careened down the hillside towards the middle of the orc company, shooting sparks on either side, it's flames leaping into the sky from the rush of the wind created by its downward journey.

The orcs stood, mesmerized, by the site, including the sentry who guarded Amdir.

With seconds, Elrohir had cut the orc's throat while the other two cut Amdir's ropes and gathered her up. She was unconscious and Uldor carried her in his arms as they rushed back up the hill.

"The prisoner!"

Below them a voice sounded and one by one, the orcs looked away from the cart that had landed in the middle of the camp and toppled over, it's bright fire quickly dying, and up the hill where the party was escaping.

The song of 29 swords being unsheathed at once rang out, but rather than speeding up, Uldor's heart slowed down; his senses sharpened.

Keep moving, he thought to himself. Behind him Elrohir and Strider used their swords to fend off attacking orcs, the clang of steel meeting steel reverberated in the air around him, and above him Elladan had reappeared with a bent bow in his hand, picking off orcs one by one.

Uldor prayed the elf's quiver was full and his sight was sharp, as he continued climbing, his arms tight around Amdir, who lay alarmingly still with eyes closed, thankfully unaware of the chaos around her.

It was tough for the orcs to sprint up the embankment and when the distance between the attackers and the party grew wide enough, Strider and Elrohir turned around and joined Elladan and Uldor, moving as quickly as their strong legs would carry them, up over the top of the ridge and beyond where it debouched onto flat ground that allowed them to break into a fast sprint across the plain. Strider stumbled once, his eyes not as keen to see in the dark as his elven counterparts, but he righted himself quickly and kept up the pace.

As Uldor began to flag, Elladan stepped in and carried Amdir, and after Elladan, Elrohir. By the time they finally stopped, near a series of massive boulders surrounded by stunted trees and bushes, Strider carried the elleth.

Uldor wiped the sweat from his brow and looked around. They had lost the orcs long ago and the night around them was utterly silent. Elladan placed a strong hand on Uldor's shoulder and said, "watch."

Then he walked between two boulders and disappeared. Uldor's eyes opened wide and he turned to Elrohir who, with a winsome grin, followed his brother and disappeared as he stepped between the stones.

"What magic is this?" Uldor asked Strider, who stood quietly, one side of his lip tipped up as he watched the twins, and shifting Amdir gently in his arms. Strider turned to Uldor, then stepped forward and carefully returned the unconscious elf to her betrothed.

He kept his eyes on Amdir's beaten face as he quietly answered Uldor's question. "It is magic that will keep us safe and hidden, long enough for you to see Amdir to safety. This cave has long been a refuge for elves and it will lead across the Wold and all the way to Fangorn."

Uldor looked at him sharply. "Is there anything you rangers don't know?"

"We don't know how long it will take the orcs to spot us if we stand here talking."

Uldor nodded, and, with a deep breath, stepped between the rocks only to find himself in a dark passage that led to a large underground cavern where one of the elves – Elrohir – was arranging his travel cloak on the floor while Elladan was placing lit lanterns around the room, filling it with warm amber light that revealed sparkling stalactites hanging above them.

Uldor carefully lay Amdir down on the cloak and it was only when he straightened up and finally looked at his companions that he saw the blood coating their arms. A strangled cry of shock escaped his throat when looked down to see the blood drying on his own arms.

Strider closed the distance between him and Amdir, and knelt at her side. Uldor stepped forward protectively, but Elladan placed a hand on his arm. "Our brother in arms is a skilled healer. He trained with our father in Imladris. He will not hurt her, but he will help her if he can."

Uldor nodded and reluctantly gave Strider some space. The elves watched in silence as the man began to work, examining Amdir's swollen face and running his hands down her limbs to check for breaks. The blood had stained her pants and the bottom of her tunic, and Strider lifted her shirt carefully to check her torso for lacerations. When he found none, he gently palpated her stomach and belly, then placed both hands on her lower abdomen. He held them there for a few minutes, then he closed his eyes and began to hum a low song that filled Uldor with inexplicable sadness. It wasn't until the healer had fallen silent that Uldor noticed the two brothers were now standing on either side of him, their faces filled with sorrow. Strider turned a calm face to the others. "There are blankets and supplies in the next cavern. Uldor, stay with me."

The twins took the hint and disappeared back into the passage, each holding a lantern they'd picked up off the floor for light. Strider waited till they had departed, then turned to Uldor. "Help me with her boots and leggings."

Together they removed the bottom half of clothes, Uldor looking away, Strider continuing to examine her with calm objectivity. "Pass me your water skin and my pack."

Uldor did so, and the man rummaged through his pack for a wooden bowl and a bag of dried white flowers. He filled the bowl with water and added the flowers, their sweet fragrance lightening the darkness of the room and lifting the sorrow from Uldor's heart. Strider used clean rags from his kit to gently wipe the dirt, grime and blood from the unconscious elleth.

Uldor watched him with anxious eyes and Strider gave him another one of his long looks. "She will recover, but she has lost her baby. Did you know she was pregnant?"

Uldor felt the air leave his chest and his legs almost buckled. His hand darted out to the wall for support. He closed his eyes for a few moments, collecting himself, then turned back to the ranger. "I wasn't sure, but I thought it might be the case. She would only be a few weeks along."

Strider looked at him, his lined hazel eyes held genuine sympathy. "I am sorry for your loss, Uldor son of Ulfang. But she is young, perhaps there will be others."

Uldor looked at Amdir's face, her eyelids purple and swollen shut, her lips bruised and split. He could see more bruises on her legs, brown splotches left behind after Strider had removed the blood. Yes, he had suspected, he had even hoped, despite knowing the baby wasn't his.

"There is so much blood," was all he could say.

Strider glanced up at him. "Although miscarriages are rare for elf-kind, they do happen, and the bleeding is part of the body's process. I suspect it was the violence of being strapped to the horse, but one cannot know for sure. This may have happened even without the orc attack. She will be weak when she awakens, and in pain from her other injuries."

Strider was ringing out the cloth into the bowl of water, now dark red, when the twins returned. "The horses are watered and fed for the night so we should do the same. How does she fare?" asked Elladan, kneeling down to rifle through his pack. He pulled out a number of packages that held cheese, dried meat and a few apples he placed on the floor in front of him.

"She needs rest, but she will recover. Uldor, join us."

Uldor had been standing apart from the other three, watching their interactions, but now he stepped forward to join them on the floor where they sat, crossed legged or knees in front, clustered around one of the lanterns as though it were a campfire.

Strider disappeared for a few minutes and when he returned his hands were clean again. Uldor looked at his own hands, still stained with Amdir's blood.

Elrohir watched the exchange and said, "There is a small pool down the cavern, just past the horses. The water smells of sulfur, but it runs quick and it's clean. You may drink from it too. It smells like my brother here, but it will refresh you, I promise."

Elladan punched his brother in the arm, eliciting an innocent 'what?' from Elrohir, who couldn't keep the smirk from his face.

Uldor nodded and, lantern in hand, made his way down the passage, the sound of quiet laughter and conversation as the elves ate fading behind him.

He continued on past the horses that were tied to large stalagmites, until where, sure enough, he found the small stream, with an eddy of swirling water perfect for bathing, right where Elladan had said it would be.

He knelt down beside the eddy and removed his bloody tunic and undershirt, then he submerged his arms in the cold water and rubbed them clean. He splashed his face, then sat up on his knees, back straight and, closing his eyes, he tipped his head back with a large exhale.

By the Valar he was tired. What he would give to be in his tent in his valley, surrounded by his men, each one of them loyal, each one of them skilled fighters, where trust, camaraderie and honour ruled the day.

He had fought countless battles for the free people of Middle-earth, yet today he had felt terribly out of his depth. This should have been easy. A simple rescue mission, but it seemed nothing was easy where Amdir was concerned.

Pregnant.

He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a corner and sleep, but instead he submerged his clothes into the water and watched with tear-filled eyes as the stream turned red.


	18. Of Fathers & Sons

She awoke to the low murmur of voices. Three elves. Wait – one voice was rough, like gravel, although when he chuckled, the sound wasn't unpleasant. A man perhaps?

She opened one eye and tried to open another, but it didn't seem to work. Perhaps one was enough for now, and just as she gave up, her vision broadened enough for her to realize the room was bathed in a soft amber glow. Above her tiny stars glittered and moved when the source of the orange light glittered and moved, and she could hear the rush of water in the distance.

She tried to flex her fingers in preparation to move, until she heard a familiar voice quietly speaking to the others. Uldor was here; she was safe.

Her heart slowed down and she relaxed enough to notice the dull throbbing between her legs, then brought her awareness back up her body. Her cheekbones ached.

She flexed her fingers again, this time with success, and tried to swallow, but her mouth was parched, and her lips hurt. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again, dark green eyes looked down at her with gentle concern. Placing a large steady hand behind her head, he eased her up and held the water skin to her lips. She took a sip that made her choke, sending sharp shooting pains throughout her ribs. "Easy, meleth." he said. "Go slow."

Beyond Uldor she saw another face, clearly human, with a patchy brown beard and stringy hair that hung over the man's eyes. He pushed it behind his ear with a large calloused hand. When he looked up at her, his eyes shone with the light of wisdom, or perhaps it was just the pretty glow the lanterns. "Who…" she tried to say, but the word came out as a croak that made Uldor smile. By the Valar he was beautiful when he smiled.

"Amdir," he whispered, "You were taken…"

She tried to focus on his voice but the stars above her twinkled and the pain in her ribs was starting to recede. She sighed with relief and sank back into sleep.

* * *

She awoke hours later to intense itching and the cooling relief of mud as someone – the man – she could tell by his scent, rubbed some sort of clay into her wounds. To her right, a small rough tongue licked her hand.

The room was silent but for the ever-present sound of water and rustling of the man going in and out his pack. This time both eyes opened on demand, and she found herself staring at the crown of his head as he knelt over her to rub clay down one arm. His face was obscured by his long brown hair.

"Who are you?" she managed to whisper.

The man's head jerked up to look at her, his eyes wide with surprise. He was handsome in his own way, she decided, the strong bones of his sun-browned skin were noble, and when he smiled, there were deep lines at the sides of his eyes. He was smiling now.

A small meow attracted both their eyes. "Dark Sky! Where did you find him? And who are you?"

The man grinned, his hands, dripping with clay, were momentarily still.

"Welcome back, Amdir of the House of Thranduil. We found him hiding the rocks where you were taken. How do you feel?"

Her eyes returned to his. She flexed her fingers and toes and took a deep breath. Then her hands rose to touch her face, but the man gently caught them and held them in his own. "Your face is almost healed, but we must let the medicine do its work."

She started to think of the word for water in the common tongue, when it occurred to her that the man was speaking perfect Sindarin.

" _Nen_ ," she whispered, and the man lifted a water skin to her lips. She drank deeply, then fell back into the (she looked beneath her) cloaks. " _Hanon-le_ " she said, and the man nodded.

"How do you feel?" he repeated.

"Better," she replied. "It doesn't hurt when I breath."

"It did before?"

"Yes. But now my face is terribly itchy."

He nodded. "That's the ointment I applied earlier, but the itching fades quickly. May I help you sit up?"

She nodded and allowed him to gently ease her up against the wall, so she could see her surroundings better. She was in a large cavern and the stars she had seen earlier were the reflection of the oil lamps off millions of crystals in the stalactites above. The subterranean room was surprisingly dry, and their voices echoed slightly when they spoke. "Where is Uldor?"

The man wiped the clay off his hands with a wet cloth then began to organize supplies in his bag. "Uldor is hunting with Elladan and Elrohir."

"Sons of Elrond? I don't understand."

He looked up at her, his wide hazel eyes were concerned. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

He rose to hand the cloth to dry on a spike of crystallized rock as he spoke, and she watched him with interest. Meanwhile her forearms were turning grey as the earth began to dry, pricking at the fine hair on her skin.

She frowned. "Yes, I… they hit me, and I was on the horse, there was so much pain and I thought I would die. They killed my parents, when I was a child, and I think they returned for me. They wanted to kill me too because they say I'm marked. But Uldor said to use a word and it worked… but still they beat me and…" her heart was beating, and she felt the panic rise in her chest, the trembling spread throughout her limbs, and Strider quickly knelt before her and placed his hands over hers.

"Peace, Amdir. Uldor rescued you, and we brought you here to recover. This place is hidden from orcs. Uldor his hunting now, but he will be back, he will not leave you, and you are safe."

Again, Dark Sky mewled, and Amdir closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Warmth emanated from the man's hands through her own, up her arms and spread throughout her chest, a warm tonic smoothing her frayed nerves and calming the trembling of her limbs. She looked up at him. "You are schooled in elven healing, but you are a man. How did you learn this?"

With a squeeze, the man withdrew his hands and began to tidy his supplies. "I was raised in Imladris," he said simply.

Amdir looked at him closely. "You are Master Elrond's foster son. I have heard of you."

He nodded, but stayed silent, and Amdir looked around her. "Where are we?"

"We are in the Wold. Below the Wold, actually. This cave is part of a network that stretches almost as far as Fangorn."

"We are going to Fangorn."

"Yes, we know. I congratulate you on your handfast, my lady. Your betrothed is a lucky ellon."

He handed her the water skin and she took a long drink. "How long have I been here?"

"Four days."

She gasped. "I slept all that time?"

Strider looked at her and paused. "You were injured and needed to rest. When Uldor returns, there will be things you will wish to discuss."

She shifted her weight from one hip to the other. "When will I be able to travel again?"

Strider rose to adjust a lantern that was flickering, it hung on the side of a narrow stalagmite. "Soon. Elven kind heal quickly."

She shifted again and bit her lip, casting shy eyes on the man's face before turning away.

Strider watched her with narrowed eyes for a few seconds, then his face broke into a smile.

"Shall I help you to private place where you may…"

"Oh yes, thank you master…errr…"

"Strider." He leaned down to hook his arms beneath hers and gently hoisted her up.

"Strider,  _hanon-le_."

He somehow managed a gracious smile as he awkwardly helped her towards the passage where he paused.

"I am sure I recall a different name for you, Master Strider."

He smiled. "Strider is the name I prefer now. And you, Lady Amdir? When your name is mentioned, I believe most expect an ellon, not a lovely elleth to appear."

She smiled. "Yes, my parents expected me to be male but when I was born, my father decided to give the name they had chosen anyways, in hopes that it would make me fierce."

"And has it?"

She was thoughtful for a moment. "I think we're getting there…"

Strider raised his eyebrows and nodded in amused agreement.

"Outside or inside, Amdir?"

"Outside."

Her feet were growing steadier and she leaned on the man a little less as they ascended through a narrow opening in the rock and suddenly emerged into the deep red of a glorious sunset.

In the distance the trees were already transformed into black silhouettes, but the air was fresh, infused with the scent of grass and wildflowers closing their petals for the night, and after the still air of the cave, it smelt delicious, and she inhaled deeply.

He led her to a small copse of trees and left her for a few minutes. When she returned to him, he was staring west. She thought he was following the final descent of the sun as it slipped below the mountains, but when she looked closer she saw three dark figures on horseback growing near. She took a nervous step backwards, but Strider touched her arm.

"Your betrothed returns; let's hope they bring fresh game."

She smiled in relief, and her relief deepened when Strider moved his hand from her bicep to under her elbow to support her, as she was feeling a bit unsteady. He led her over to a large set of boulders where she sat down and watched the elves' arrival.

On seeing Amdir, Uldor was off his horse almost before it stopped and jogged over to where she sat. Even in the gloaming she could see his bright smile and the glint of his white teeth. He looked as though he were about to take her hands but quickly dropped them back to his sides and suddenly looked shy. She couldn't help but return his smile and reached out to take one of his hands instead.

"You have returned to us," he said.

"And you to us,"

He shrugged, although his smile grew. "We were hunting, we caught rabbits to help you recover your strength."

Behind Uldor, two elves stepped forward. They were garbed in the homespun wool of rangers of the north, yet their brown hair was braided in the style of the high elves, and their faces would have been mirror images, but that one was thinner.

"Amdir of the House of Thranduil, the honour is ours," said one, while his brother tilted his head and smiled as he looked at her.

She bowed her head in return. " _Mae Govannen_  sons of Elrond. We have met before."

Now the other one grinned. "I am Elladan and this my less handsome brother Elrohir. We met you many decades ago. You were very young, and I'm surprised you remember."

She quirked a smile. "I didn't till this very moment, but seeing your faces, I remember your coming to a feast in my Lord King's Halls. I thank you, all of you, for saving my life."

The elves' faces sobered, and Strider joined them, leading Uldor's horse.

"It was our honour, and our duty. We are happy to see you recovered," said Elrohir. The twins and the man exchanged a glance then returned to the horses leaving Uldor and Amdir alone.

"May I?"

Amdir nodded and moved over on the boulder to give the dark elf room to sit down. He sat lightly beside her, as though afraid to touch her, although she still held his hand. "How are you feeling," he asked, his eyes taking in the dried clay on her arms.

She shrugged. "I've felt better, but I'm alive. You found Dark Sky. He was licking my hand when I awoke."

Uldor was silent for such a long time that Amdir turned her head to look at him. The dusk had deepened to night, but she could still see the angular planes of his face, and the shadows beneath his eyes. It was hard to see what he was feeling. "Uldor?"

He blinked and exhaled, dropping her hand. "I feel that I failed you, Amdir. You were under my protection. By the Valar I am sorry this happened to you."

She turned to face him full on and leaned forward to touch his arm. "No Uldor. You saved me."

"Yes, but I couldn't save the…your…" his voiced trailed off and she leaned forward, her brows raised.

"My what?"

He took a deep breath. "Your baby. You miscarried."

"No, that's not possible," she said, but her stomach sank deeper than she thought it was possible to feel. He knew. He knew. The words reverberated in her mind alongside the realization that she had been pregnant. She could see those clear blue eyes sparking with passion as they stared down at her on that day, a curtain of silver hair surrounding her, the scent of orc blood and sweat mixed with…Haldir. Her beloved Haldir, and they had made a baby.

For a second, a vision of a perfect baby flashed in her mind. She saw porcelain white skin and dimpled knees and elbows, a delighted gurgle as it smiled up at her with those same clear blue eyes. And just as suddenly, it faded, and she rose, needing to move, needing to calm the beating of her heart, the rising feeling of despair mingled with panic of Uldor knowing she had betrayed him, and most of all, the loss of Haldir's baby.

From the corner of her mind, she heard Uldor's accented voice, it pierced the corner her thoughts, like an echo in the distance. He spoke to her now in Rhun and she finally turned to him.

"Did you know?" he asked.

She shook her head, rubbing the tears out her eyes.

He stood. "I'm sorry."

She turned to him. "How can you be sorry? You know it wasn't yours!"

He approached her calmly. She searched his face for anger but found only compassion. "Yes, but it was yours and I would have loved it," he said.

His unexpected words undid her. "I'm so sorry, Uldor. I didn't mean to do this to you."

He shook his head slowly and opened his arms to her.

She went to him then, allowing him to wrap his arms around her as she cried for the unexpected loss of yet another dream she hadn't even known she was carrying, and the relief that Uldor didn't appear to be going anywhere.

* * *

They set out two days later.

By the amber glow of the lanterns, the group had poured over maps of the Wold and the underground tunnels.

Amdir was surprised to learn that they had original been built by the dwarves of Khazad-dûm as a safe way to travel for trade without being molested by the orc raiders of Mordor.

When the Balrog of Moria had awakened, the Galadhrim closed the entrance to that Dwarven realm and placed heavy spells on the caves to keep them safe from the eyes and influence of Mordor and its dark creatures.

The walls of each passageway glittered with crystals and thick veins of priceless metals like gold, silver and mithril, that sparkled light onto the many pools and springs throughout the network.

To Amdir, it reminded her of home, although Thranduil's Halls were lit by huge chandeliers and delicate bridges that spanned underground rivers and lakes. In Mirkwood, the huge rugged stalagmites, similar to those that stood nakedly under the Wold, revealing rubies and diamonds as big as robins eggs, had been hewn into smooth stately columns that joined with the stalactites above. She imagined this was exactly how Mirkwood had looked before Thranduil set about building his Halls.

The rangers had travelled it enough times that they barely looked right nor left, but Amdir could see Uldor's eyes wide with astonishment at the beauty of the place, as the blue light of a dazzling pool fell across the intricate tattooed patterns of face, and she noted how his eyes searched for the roof with amazement each time they entered a massive cavern.

When she looked at him, she was filled with a sense of relief that he had stayed; many would have left her for her indiscretion, yet Uldor, by his own admission, was sorry she had lost the baby. While she imagined there were tough conversations to come once they were alone, she thanked the Valar for his understanding and patience.

She was starting to see that, against the odds, Uldor had found a way into her heart. The closest and best friend she had ever had, in fact. Whatever ill feeling she had about being forced into this situation, she could not doubt that, as Thranduil had said, the elf was worthy. The attachment she was beginning to feel was unexpected, and at odds with the earlier anger she had felt towards him for kidnapping her. If it was not love, it was genuine respect and affection, and that was, perhaps, more than one could ask for in a political marriage.

After a day of travel, Strider, Elladan and Elrohir took their leave, promising to return the horses to Fangorn within the year. "The caves are no place for a horse," Strider has said, and sorry as she was to see the coursers go, she had to agree.

They rangers had created a map for the elves to follow that would lead them under the Wold and to opening less than 40 miles from the entrance to Fangorn. Once in Fangorn, the elves would be safe not only from Orcs but also from human assassins set on killing either one of them to end any cooperation between Rhun, Lothlorien and Mirkwood.

The day after the ranger's departure, Amdir and Uldor walked quietly, once again awkward in the intimacy of each other's sole company. But there were questions burning in Amdir's mind and, on the second day, she could not keep quiet.

"Uldor?" she asked as they carefully made their way through a wide passage. Amdir's fingers brushed a metal rod that protruded from the walls. The dwarves had installed these rods as sign posts; should they fall into total darkness, one could still navigate in the right direction with touch alone, although to an elf, the rods were set too close to the ground to be comfortable.

"Mmm-hmm?" Ahead of her the Easterling's black braid absorbed the lantern light like a long shard of obsidian.

"Tell me about the word I said when I was captured. Aerina. Why did it work?"

Uldor's froze, his body suddenly rigid. Slowly he turned to look at her, and in his unblinking green eyes she saw fear. He managed a smile. "Let's talk about it later, when we get to Fangorn."

She tilted her head and studied him. "No," she said slowly, "I think we should talk about it now, before we go any farther."

His eyebrows rose, "And why is that? Do you think you can turn back if you don't like what you hear?" he said caustically.

Her eyebrows rose in return. "Uldor! Why are you suddenly so defensive? You saved my life and have proven yourself a loyal and trusted companion. I do not wish to interrogate you, I am only curious about why this word saved my life. If you do not wish to share it right now, I will wonder why, but I will not press you."

His exhaled and his shoulders dropped as his body relaxed. He reached out and touched her cheek, then ran his hand down her shoulder and arm. She stepped closer to him, tilting her face upwards so that he may see the sincerity in her eyes.

His face softened at once. "I am afraid if I tell you, you will flee. This future that has been forged for each of us, for me it's a dream that has suddenly become a reality, and I don't want to lose it."

She smiled, wanting to hug him and reassure him. "I am not going anywhere. If we are to spend out lives together, we must learn to trust one another. I have entrusted my life to you, and you have not failed me. You can entrust your secrets to me, for I will not fail you."

He blinked and looked away. "Ah, but for you it was not a choice. It was different."

There was pain in those expressive green eyes she admired so much, and she could not hold back. She reached out and placed her hands on his chest. He sucked in his breath and she could feel his heart beating beneath his tunic. She ran her hands up to his collarbone, then softly brushed an invisible piece of dust off one shoulder. Finally, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, her fingers lingering on his cheekbone and ear, and she smiled, raising her face to his and looking at him until he finally met her gaze. "You are unlike anyone I have ever known. I feel lucky that I get to be the one to touch you like this. You are my choice now, Uldor Son of Ulfang."

His mouth opened as he stared down at her, and his eyes searched hers. "Do not play with me, Amdir, is this true, do you truly wish for this handfast?"

She looked away shyly, then returned his gaze with a smile. "I do. I… well, I like you. I believe that not only can we help our lands avoid war, but I think the doing of it might not be unhappy for either of us, and most of all, I do not want to be without you."

His eyes widened in surprise, then he embraced her tightly, pressing her head to his chest and dropped his chin to kiss the top of her head. She closed her eyes and pressed herself to him, realizing that his embrace had become her refuge of the last few weeks, and feeling a fission of desire awaken within her.

She wrapped an arm around his waist, her hand reaching under his tunic to wrap her thumb over the top of his leggings, resting it against the smooth bare skin of his back.

She felt his heart beat quicken and he pulled away, raising a hand between them to keep the distance.

She frowned, and her hand flew to the base of her neck. "Is this not what you want? I thought…" her voiced trailed off.

He was quick to react. "It is, of course it is, but before you make this choice, there are things you must know, I will answer your question, but first you must promise that you will not flee. If this changes your mind, you will allow me to see you safely back to Lothlorien. Do you promise?"

"I cannot imagine that what you have to say will dissuade—"

"You have no idea of what I'm about to say. Have I your promise?"

She nodded.

"Then let's rest here while we talk."

They stood beside a glittering black pool of fresh water that was as calm and still as a black mirror. He spread his cloak on the ground and they sat cross legged, facing one another.

It was hard for Amdir not to touch him, not to be distracted by the shadow his lashes cast upon his cheekbones or by mentally tracing the spiral patterns of the tattoos under his jawline. But Uldor did not share her distraction. His look was frank, almost challenging.

"Aerina is a code word," he began, and Amdir snapped to attention. "It a Quenyan endearment for a mother. It was the endearment that the Dark Elf Maeglin used for _his_  mother, Princess Aredhel, daughter of Fingolfin, before she was slain by her husband and - Maeglin's father - Eol of the House of Thingol."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"It is also the word that Morgoth told Maeglin to use once he was ready to come to him as a servant of darkness during the fall of Gondolin. It came to mean, 'I wish to join you'. Even now, Morgoth's lieutenant, Sauron, believes that other elves will join him, thus all orcs are trained to know this word, although it has not been uttered since the First Age."

Amdir exhaled through pursed lips. " _Mando's Halls._  So when I said the word, the orcs were going to take me to Sauron himself?"

He nodded. "Yes, but it bought you time, and it kept you alive, until we could recover you."

She leaned back on her hands, silent for a time. Uldor watched her but said nothing, allowing her to work out her thoughts.

"I know this story,' she said finally. "Every elf in Middle-earth knows how Maeglin betrayed Gondolin. He became Morgoth's pet and his betrayal rained destruction upon not only Gondolin but all the eleven Kingdoms, ending the first age. Even our Queen is much tied to this evil elf. She is – was – his niece, and it was Haldir who slew him."

She saw Uldor grimace with the mention of the march warden's name, but he quickly collected himself.  _He is a master of self-possession,_ thought Amdir.

"That is true. Maeglin, thought to be dead, hid in a secret fortress in Angmar for an age. He returned to make Dol Guldor his fortress after Thanduil abandoned it in favour of his Halls in the Greenwood. At that time, he made his presence known to the men of the east, my mother's people. His greed and gluttony were insatiable; he raped many human women in Rhun, although few bore children, and of those children he did beget, well... only one survived."

Her skin broke out in shivers, and she leaned back even farther, as though rearing away from his words. It was starting to make sense, and the knowledge cut her in half like an axe through her stomach. She shook her head trying to deny what he was telling her for the truth of this beautiful elf was uglier than she could have imagined.

She inhaled ragged breath. "And when this half-elven child was offered to him as a slave, he took the child in," she said quietly.

He nodded, and small cry almost escaped her lips, but she mastered herself and held her mouth firmly closed, until she was able to say, in a steady voice, "You are the son of Maeglin."

He lowed his head in answer.

"But that day when we interviewed you, you said he raped you, he  _forced_  himself on you for decades."

He did not look up. "Yes."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Uldor, I am so sorry…" she reached out to touch his hand, but he flinched away, and when his eyes met hers, they blazed with defiance.

"I will not have your pity, Amdir. I will not."

She pulled back as though she had been burned. Mind reeling, she was at a loss for words. The son of Maeglin. But of course, it made perfect sense. He looked so much like Queen Isobel, and it explained why Maeglin had let him go.  _Madness ran in that family._

Uldor quickly stood up, arms folded tightly against his chest, and walked towards the pool, scanning the surface to stare at his reflection. "You should know who you're pledging yourself to," he said finally, not turning to look at her.

She exhaled and pulled her knees into her chest. If he had been worried she would run, he was wrong. She wasn't going anywhere. She knew exactly to who she was pledging herself and an unfortunate birth did nothing to change that. He couldn't be more wrong.

"I am sorry for what happened to you," she said in a clear voice that grabbed his attention. He looked at her over his shoulder and she rose, smoothing her tunic, then straightening her shoulders. His eyes followed her with curiosity.

"You forget, that I am a daughter of the house of Thranduil, and Thranduil's Queen is of the House of Eol. I know much about your family, good and evil. You were not raised by your father, you were imprisoned by him, and I can assure you that I am not so young and stupid as to blame you for that. And furthermore, the time you spent with Maeglin did not break you. Once released, you became a champion of men, and worked to ensure that men, women and children were fed and treated fairly. We already established, many weeks ago, that, if there is shame to be felt, it is not to be felt by you.

"I will be blunt: You are wrong; I do not pity you. I have no desire to marry a victim, Uldor. I do, however, see the value in aligning myself with the Chieftain of the Men of the Brown; he who provides access to justice to those who would not otherwise have it. I am proud to become the partner of the Elven Easterling who is the rightful and best heir to the Kingdom of Rhun, and who would restore prosperity to his people, and rightfully earn their love in return. Speaking of love, I cannot help but feel affection for he who has protected me, watched over me, and saved my life on more than one occasion, and I do not see that as a weakness, I see that as proof that I am, on occasion, capable of good judgement."

She shook her head. "Forgive me, but I do not understand where pity factors into this equation, so I will stand here until you rid yourself of that foolish notion, and can find it within yourself to give me, your betrothed, who is not going anywhere, the benefit of your doubt."

He slowly turned around. In the soft light she could see tears glittering in his eyes. She raised her brow. "What do you have to say for yourself, Uldor, son of Ulfang?"

A small smile began bloom across his face and, when he looked at her, it spread to his eyes. Her mouth twitched in return and she could not hold back neither the smile nor the tears at his open display of vulnerability.

He wiped his eyes, and sniffed, then looked at her, lips pressed tightly together, as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. "I…um…" he searched for the words and came up empty.

She smiled again through her own tears. "Well Uldor. It would seem that we have been through much together, yet it's a simply display of honesty that breaks us. I thank you for sharing this with me, and I assure you: I don't care about your father, and I AM sorry that it happened to you. It is time you had some happiness and if I can give you that, it would make me happy too."

He nodded and sniffed again, then turned his back to her for a moment while he collected himself. She saw his shoulders shake for a moment and bit her lip to stop herself from surging forward to comfort him, but when he turned around he was utterly self-possessed, although his green eyes were alight.

"Do you feel strong enough to walk another few hours?" he asked her as he knelt to gather up the cloak and pick up their bags.

She nodded. "I think so," she bit her lip, watching him, wondering what to expect.

"Good," he said. "I'll take the lead."

She nodded again, and took a step back, allowing him to reassert himself. "Thank you. I'd like that."

He gave her a long look then he reached over and kissed her on the forehead. He smiled and turned around to lead the way for another few miles.

She frowned for an instant that her declaration had led to no more than a kiss on the forehead, but given what he had just shared, perhaps it was a foolish hope that he would give her anything more. Besides, she trusted Uldor and knew he had her best interests at heart. Sometimes it was good to take things slow.


	19. It's Complicated

By day number nine, the darkness was getting to Amdir.

"You live underground much of the time in Mirkwood. You should be used to this," said Uldor one day as they walked through yet another cavern. Amdir had noticed that even her companion, once awed by the underground sights, had ceased staring up at the crystalline ceiling or marveling at the beauty of the onyx coloured pools. After a time, one simply looked like the next.

She exhaled through puffed cheeks as she walked. "Yes, but much of Mirkwood is built into a large hill, so there are pockets of natural light and outdoor patios. And besides, many of the elves still live in flets surrounding the Palace and only come in during times of danger or the coldest days of winter."

"I can't imagine your King allows danger to come too close to his home."

She nodded. "King Thranduil keeps fierce guards, and he protects the forest with ancient spellwork only he and the Prince know. Few challenge us."

She looked back to check on Dark Sky who was quietly padding behind them. Since he had gotten lost in a small side passage a few days back, he was keeping close, although he still preferred to travel in Uldor's arms, pack or, to Uldor's chagrin, the hood of his cloak.

"We weren't allowed cats in the Palace, except in the store rooms to catch mice. Thranduil doesn't like them."

Uldor grinned. "Now that I don't believe. In fact, I think your King may be half cat himself."

Amdir's brows rose. "Why say that?"

"All the grooming."

She rolled her eyes. "What about you? I've never known an elf to spend so much time brushing his hair."

He snorted. "If I'm to braid it, I must brush it."

"For ten minutes a day?"

"I thought you liked my hair."

She laughed despite herself, and behind her, Dark Sky meowed. She bent down and picked him up. "I think someone is feeling a little left out."

"Not getting his hair brushed enough?" Uldor joked.

"I think it's  _you_  who's half cat, Uldor. You even look like a cat sometimes."

Uldor wiped his mouth and Amdir could see his suppressed laughter threatening to spill over. "I assume you are referring to my cat-like warrior fighting style," he said, his voice laced with mirth

She ignored his comment and scratched the kitten's neck as she walked. "Have you ever cut it? I mean short, like the humans wear it?"

The passage widened, and he slowed his pace so they could walk amiably side by side.

"The Easterlings wear their hair long too. We cut it only as a sign of mourning. Usually before the body is burnt. Then the hair of the fallen's loved ones are burnt on the pyre alongside the fallen. This way the dead can pass to the next world knowing how much he or she was loved."

"I read that it's not uncommon for the widows of fallen men to throw themselves on the pyre."

He nodded. "True, but luckily the custom has evolved to offering their hair isntead, and other things like clothes, favourite foods, sacred spices, and sometimes, -regrettably- the pets of the fallen."

Amdir tightened her grip on Dark Sky who meowed in protest and scrambled to break free, falling gracefully to the ground in front of them and scurrying out of the way of their feet.

"If you die, I am  _not_  putting that cat on your pyre."

He raised an eyebrow. "No? And what of your hair, my lady?" He reached out to playfully touch one of her brown braids and she pulled it out of his hand with a yank.

"Never! Let your Easterling friends shave their heads, I will keep my hair, thank you."

Uldor pretended to look offended. "That's not very wifely of you."

She snorted. "There doesn't seem to be very much that's wifely about me these days."

He reached down to help her over a large step, his grip was strong and he smiled at her. Since he had let his guard down about his father, he had relaxed around her, and his wary abrasiveness was steadily being replaced with lively humour. At times she found him utterly charming, and she never grew bored of his company.

"I disagree. I think you have all the wifely skills necessary."

"Such as?"

"You are good at hiking, surprisingly good at it, in fact, so if I ever go to war, I can get you to carry the water."

She clicked the top of her mouth with her tongue. "My goodness, what an honour," she said flatly.

"And you're very good at brushing my hair, and you already know how important that is to me,"

She nodded, suppressing a smile. "Indeed. I wonder if showing off that mane of yours was how you became head of the Men of the Brown?"

"It was a main factor; the men were very impressed. Get it? 'Mane.'"

Her smile began to show through. "Well they certainly didn't chose you based on your jokes. Any other wifely qualities, my lord?"

He turned and faced her, his dark green eyes dancing with humour that tempered the ferocity of his tattoos and black hair. "You're VERY good at throwing a punch. I shall have no need of a king's guard with you to protect me…"

She rolled her eyes went to push past him past him, but he laughed and grabbed her arm, pulling her against his chest. He looked down at her and his smile changed to something more tender. He raised a hand and brushed some stray hairs away from her face.

"You will make a very beautiful wife, Amdir," he said softly. Her laughter died, and her heart beat, as she felt his hands warm on her back.

She knew what came next, after the banter, after the soft words… Her eyes dipped to his mouth with its full generous lips, the mouth she had studied that first night they had slept side by side, when she was his captive.

She tilted her head towards him and when he lowered his face to hers, his kiss was unexpectedly soft. But it was not softness she wanted. Desire rose up in her and she tightened her arms around him, but when she tried to deepen the kiss, he suddenly stepped back.

She flushed with shame. "I'm sorry," she began. "I thought you wanted…"

"No, it's not you, I just feel…I think we have much time to explore, and besides, you have been through much, your body has been through much."

He looked away and ran his hand over the top of his hair.

She inhaled and held her breath, releasing it with an embarrassed exhale. "Of course."

She paused."Of course  _not_ , actually. Uldor, my body feels fine, and we are to be married. It is only the two of us here. When we are in Fangorn, it will be the two of us still. I think…"

He had turned away from her, and she stepped forward and ran her hands over his shoulders, pressing her thumbs into his tense shoulder muscles. She heard him exhale and his head dipped forward. She stepped closer, and continued to move her thumbs, massaging his shoulders. She could make him surrender to her. She knew she could. She had won with Haldir, why not Uldor? She heard him groan, and she rose to her tip toes to whisper in his ear. "I want to explore you now," she said, her tongue flicking his lobe, but the handsome elf in front of her flinched violently, and spinning around, pushed her away with a force that startled and frightened her. She fell back, almost landing on Dark Sky who yowled in surprise and leapt out of the way.

She lost her balance and landed painfully on her rump.

"Amdir! Forgive me!" he rushed forward to take her arm and hastily raised her to her feet. She looked at him with confused eyes, not sure to feel humiliated or angry. Perhaps both.

"Dammit!" he said, rubbing his forehead, eyes tightly closed.

"Forgive me," he repeated, lowering his hand. "I am not always good with touch, I… sometimes it brings me back to that time, especially with you being behind me like that." He exhaled a deep breath. "I didn't mean to push you away. It's not that I don't want you. I DO want you. I want you very much. Sometimes I just  _can't_..."

The elf's body was trembling, and his face was pale. Uldor's dark green eyes looked a bit wild although she could also see grief and embarrassment in their depths. How foolish she was. Uldor was not Haldir, he was different, his mind wired differently, his experiences unique to him. He was not the hero of a romantic ballad, nor was he the endearingly broken man who could simply recover with the strength of her love in two day's time. He was a man who had suffered unspeakable injury that went deeper than she could imagine, and she had forgotten to respect that.

"Uldor, I'm sorry, I didn't know." She reached out to embrace him, but he quickly stepped back and she stopped in her tracks.

"Thank you, Amdir, but please. I just need a minute alone."

Her hands rose, palms up. "Of course. But I... where can I go? Do want me to leave you for a bit?" She looked around, there was literally nowhere she could go other than far infront of far behind. She felt like a child, one who was very far out of her depths.

"Uldor, I don't know how to help you."

He looked at her and exhaled slowly. She could see the colour returning to his face. He lowered himself to the ground and sat with his back against the cavern wall, his arms around his knees, his head briefly hung low in between. Then he looked up at her again. "No, of course not, I want you to stay right here with me. That's all you need do."

He held her gaze, and in that moment, he looked like a young boy, all eyes and injury. Asking for her love, yet unable to receive it. Her heart broke, and she sat down beside him, careful to keep a distance.

After a few minutes, he reached out and took her hand.

"Uldor?"

"Yes."

"Will it always be like this when I try to touch you?"

"I don't know. I hope not. It's easier when I'm in control of what's happening."

"So you can control what's happening in your mind, anticipate things?"

He nodded.

"But then you can never let go. You can never just enjoy and be in the moment."

He looked at her. "I never expected to have these moments at all. I thought I would die in that dark fortress. Ever second I spend with you, above ground, under ground, even with that silly cat. It doesn't matter if they are not perfect - I am grateful for them all the same. The day I laid eyes on you in Lothlorien—"

"Before you kidnapped me,"

A small chuckle escaped his lips. "Before you punched me, the moment I saw you, it was enough for me." His voiced deepened. "But I am not a noble elf of a mighty elven realm. I am not Haldir of Lothlorien. I am broken, Amdir, and I don't know that I will ever recover. I hardly deserve you, and now I worry that I won't be enough for you."

"You are enough, Uldor. You will be a good husband, a good father and a good king. Take your time, for there is no rush," she said, "and we are to be married. Are we not the lucky ones?"

He smiled sadly and squeezed her hand, then he raised it to his lips and kissed it. "Thank you," he said, and she nodded, slowly turning her legs towards him. When her knees brushed his and he didn't flinch, she looked up at him. He nodded and, letting go of her hand, raised his arm and placed it around her shoulders, pulling her close. She relaxed into him, her head against his, his head bent over hers, and they remained there for some time.

* * *

If he never saw another underground pool again, he would not be sorry. For almost two weeks they had trekked under The Wold.

At first the dark beauty of the caverns and passages had awed him. Light from unknown sources twinkled off diamonds and emeralds embedded in the walls of rock, and the underground streams tumbled down rock faces, feeding countless rivulets that trickled around the stalagmites, flowing a burbling song that he found comforting even if the damp of the caverns was starting to get to him.

Ahead of him, holding the lantern, walked Amdir. Her hair was tied back in a long brown braid that swung across her back as she walked, and now and again, she glanced back at him with a smile, as though to make sure he were still there. As though he would ever leave her.

As much as he had begun to despise the dim light of the cavern, at least down here he knew they were safe. While Amdir had convalesced, the twins had shared with him news that a large party of Easterling raiders had been spotted making their way west, just south of the Narrows.

He didn't need to be told that this party was not travelling to help the heir of Rhun, rather to kill both him and Amdir, and to shut down any possibility of the Easterlings fighting for the remaining elven realms and the freemen of Middle-earth. When he was King, the first thing he would do would be to destroy these rogue houses and unite the Kingdom of Rhun once and for all.

Watching Amdir, as she knelt to scoop up the black cat, he knew it was the last thing he wanted her to know. Already she had been through much and he wanted her to feel safe for a least another few days, if he could manage it.

The rangers had assured him that they would do what they could to protect the land between the exit of the cave and the beginning of the forest so the two could cross safely, but Uldor had been raised watching Easterling men train, and he knew how fiercely they fought.

In battle, it was as though a blood frenzy overtook their senses and nothing would keep them from taking the lives of their foe. Growing up, he had believed them to be invincible, now he knew that no man was truly invincible, although their cunning made them come close. An Easterling widow was a rare sight.

The stark reality was that, if these men wanted him dead, it would take an act of equal strength and equal cunning to deny them.

He missed his own clan. There were no men more skilled at quiet assassinations than the Men of the Brown, and if he had been home, he could have sent rangers to track the Easterlings' progress, and set up a counter operation to pick them off, one by one, until the frightened remnants of the company turned back east to relay the news that Uldor, son of Ulfang, nephew to Ulwarth, was not to be trifled with.

But that was not the case. Here he was, under the ground with a single sword strapped to his back and a short blade dagger at his thigh. His battalion consisted of a young elleth and a kitten. Both of them stronger then they appeared, but not nearly as strong as they believed themselves to be.

Their only chance was to outpace them underground and hope they could make it to the forest on time.

"Uldor look!"

Ahead of them the passage made a hard right and the wall in font of them was filled with Dwarvish writing. He strode ahead of her and lifted the lantern to see the words, but he shook his head. He couldn't read it.

"It's easy – see here," she pointed to a series of boxes and exes with strange slashes through them. "It says the exit is 3 miles up, look for the stone door to the west."

He smiled. She was resourceful, this one. If he'd met her under different circumstances, he still may have captured her and carried her away to become a man of the Brown. Haldir be damned; if he wanted her hidden, they could be untrackable.

"Three miles," he said. "But where are the Rangers? I would have thought they'd be here to meet us, or at least leave us word of what we can expect. Damn elves; If they were men, they'd be here."

"One is a man,"

"That makes for a one in three chance."

She narrowed her eyes and his lips twitched. He loved how her anger sparked quickly, but she tamped it down just as quickly; worried that someone might see. Watching her confidence build was an unexpected pleasure. She was clearly used to staying in the back, yet she was becoming more and more bold. Stepping forward when she needed to. She had floored him a few days ago when he'd told her about his father. He'd expected tears, maybe fear or repulsion, but instead she'd stood tall and announced that it made no difference. The 'young translator' was becoming a woman. An elleth, he must remind himself. But what an elleth...

"Amdir, I was thinking…Ouch!"

Tired of riding in the hood of Uldor's cloak, Dark Sky chose that moment to climb up his shoulder, the cat's sharp claws digging into the spot where his shoulder met his neck.

Amdir smiled and stepped forward, gingerly collecting the cat. "I am tempted to leave that cat in the caves," he said, rubbing the spot in his neck where two thin red lines had appeared.

"That cat is your best friend, Uldor son of Ulfang so you may wish to think twice. Nobody will ever love you like this cat." She knelt down and released the animal, who turned away and with an affronted 'meow' and began licking its paws.

"I had hoped for better prospects."

"Don't let your best friend hear you say that."

Uldor rolled his eyes and was about to volley a joke when he heard a noise reverberate in the passage ahead. Someone clearing their throat? He stepped close to Amdir and lifted his finger to his lips. Her eyes widened, but she nodded and quietly picked up the cat who stayed blessedly silent for once. The two backed into the darkness of the corner and Uldor unsheathed his sword. They waited.

He could hear single footsteps nearing. Ahead of them, the way was lighter, and the shadow of the person reached them first, long and thin, creeping over the walls like a dark specter. Behind him Amdir stepped closer and rested her hands on the back of his shoulders. Her breathing was quick and he widened his stance and bent his knees ready to pounce as soon as the owner of that shadow appeared.

Suddenly the cat let out an ungody squeal and leapt out of the elleth's arms, and scurried off to the far corner. The shadow froze, and Uldor winced. So much for surprise. With his sword held high, he jumped into the passage and his sword met Elrohir's with a mighty clang.

"That cat will be the death of you." Elrohir relaxed the vice grip on his hilt and lowered the sword with a grin.

Uldor released his breath and sheathed his own sword. He turned his head just enough to see Amdir peek around the corner.

"She says it's my best friend," he replied dryly.

"With friends like that who needs—"

"Mae Govannen, Elrohir. I am that pleased to see you; although you had us worried." Amdir stepped forward. "What news do you bring?"

"The news is not great. Easterling raiders arrived near Fangorn before we did and have set up lines along the forest line. Today we spotted a larger contingent moving west to join them. There is no time to waste. We must get you out of this cave, across the fields, and into Fangorn before they have time to look for you."

"Is there no other way around? Fangorn is a large forest surely we can enter it from another direction."

Elrohir shook his head. "You would have to head back to the original entrance and that would take weeks. The Easterlings have no idea that this passage way exists, so we have the advantage of surprise on our side. They will have been scouting for you for weeks, and I imagine they are perplexed wondering where you could be and if your plans have changed."

Uldor noticed Amdir studying his face and made an effort to relax the muscles around his jaw. No need to alarm her more than was necessary. Their chances of breaking through a line of Easterlings was slim, but perhaps if she believed they could do it, they would. Her faith in him bolstered his courage.

"How many are the Easterlings?" he asked.

Elrohir's mouth grew thin. "The original raiders numbered 50. The lines that come after them are close to 500."

Uldor whistled. "Seems like overkill simply to ki—capture…" he glanced quickly at Amdir, "two elves."

"They are determined," replied Elrond's son.

"These will be private armies and bannerman of the lords who oppose the King. But they will be well-trained nonetheless, and hard to defeat. I trust you have a plan?"

Elrohir's eyes glittered. Nothing pleased this elf of Imladris lately turned ranger more than executing a good plan.

"We will emerge from the cave at midnight. It is a dark moon this rises, so we will approach their lines from the south side. We have also created a distraction to occupy the attention of the Easterlings, draw some of their men away."

"What kind of distraction?" asked Amdir.

"An army, my lady. Your King's army, to be exact, although The Lady of Light and Lord Celeborn added to the ranks. We outnumber them 2 to 1."

"Those are good odds, Elrohir," said Amdir.

He looked at her for a moment, then inclined his head. "Let's hope so," he said.

* * *

The entrance to the cavern was hidden between two large outcroppings of dark black rock. When they emerged through the glamour that hid the entrance, they found Elrohir's brother and the Captain of Thranduil's guard, Feren, waiting for them.

The night would have been dark but for the orange glow emanating from a few hundred of campfires as far as the eye could see. The air was heavy with the scent of rain and the nearby forest. They were closer to Fangorn than she had expected, and the sound of voices carried on the wind, and she turned towards them. These were not elven voices, she realized. They were Easterling.

Uldor stepped forward and grasped Elladan's wrist in a warrior's shake, then the same to Feren, who in turn nodded to Amdir.

"Keep your voices low and your swords up," said Feren quietly. "We are closer to the Easterlings' camp to the south and west than to our own at the north, and we must move quickly."

She turned to Uldor for reassurance. He smiled down at her. "It's a good plan, with good soldiers to support it. I will get you to Fangorn safely, I promise," he said in that low accented voice that she remembered so well from that first interrogation. She took a deep breath and smiled back at him, then rose on her toes and kissed him on his mouth. He did not flinch. "I know," she said.

The twins and Feren watched the exchange with grim faces, then, with a nod from Feren, they set out into the inky blackness of night.


	20. A Circle Of Trees

Fangorn was a massive forest, perhaps not so large as Mirkwood, but impressive in its own right.

It spanned 50 miles from top to bottom, at each end it was enclosed by rivers, and mountain to the back. Much of the east side of the forest, where the Wold crept up to meet the trees, was patrolled by march wardens from Lothlorien. The southern side was similarly patrolled by the Riders of Rohan. The result was that, despite covering a large swath of land, the only accessible way to reach the forest was by crossing a flat narrow field in the centre of the eastern march, surround with granite hills on either side.

Anyone who wanted to enter Fangorn would need to do so by crossing this narrow channel of earth, and here the two opposing camps had assembled, barely two miles separating them.

The King's pavilion was located in the midst of the elven campfires, obvious with its shining silver silk banners, visible even in the dark, and the warm glow emanating from within. The small party approached the guard, who, on seeing Feren's face, stepped aside.

They entered to find the King sitting at a table with three captains and Haldir. Haldir rose even before the King, earning a harsh look from Thranduil, who himself rose gracefully and stepped forward with arms outstretched to greet Amdir.

He held her at arms' length, inspecting her, before finally pulling her into him and murmuring 'it does my heart good to see you unharmed,' into her hair.

He released her from the embrace and she moved aside so that the warriors could speak with him, and her eyes fell on Haldir.

The March Warden stood frozen, his eyes wide and his face white. She saw his adam's apple bob in his throat and his jaw was tightly clenched. She offered him the barest of smiles, and earned the barest of nods in return. She didn't drop her eyes till she felt a familiar hand on the small of her back and saw Haldir quickly look away.

She turned slightly into Uldor, and didn't miss Thranduil's sharp eyes taking in the movement. The king nodded slightly with approval and Amdir swallowed the sudden and bitter resentment that rose in her throat at being forced into a marriage, and away from the person she had wanted.

The warmth of Uldor's hand reminded her that she was going to be happy with the Easterling, but it was the  _principle_ that angered her. Uldor must have felt her tense, for his hand began to move discreetly in small soothing circles. Amdir closed her eyes in annoyance, while she appreciated the gesture, she wished he'd stop.

As the elves spoke, she hazarded a glance to Haldir whose eyes were glued to the spot where Uldor's hand touched her back. She took a sudden breath and stepped forward. "Forgive me, my Lord King, Uldor, I need air," and she rushed outside the tent, almost tripping over the guard who caught her arm before she fell.

"Thank you, I'm alright now," she said, straightening her shoulders and smoothing her tunic. The guard nodded and returned to his watch. Behind her, Elrohir emerged and she sighed. She didn't want company.

"Uldor listens to the King's plans. I thought you would want to hear them too?"

She shook her head. "Right now I need a moment."

He nodded and offered her his arm. She hesitated, but did not wish to offend him, and allowed him to lead her away a few metres.

"I do not wish to intrude on your moment," he said, "but this army is here to protect you, and the King does not want you to wander alone."

She shook her head and looked to the sky, earning an amused glance from the tall elf.

"If this army is here for me, what safer place for me to be than walking in its midst?" she said.

Elrohir smiled. "Quite right, my lady. Still, shall we return?"

She sighed. "Yes, I suppose we should. Given all the trouble you've all gone to, it'd be a pity for me to get struck by a stray arrow."

"Nothing like positivity to get one through a hard time."

She broke out into a small laugh, and the sentry glanced over in surprise.

"Careful Amdir, if people see you enjoying my company this much, they will begin to talk…"

She conceded the point with a smile. "I would not wish to besmirch your reputation, Master Elrohir."

He raised an eyebrow. "If an elleth like you wished to besmirch my reputation, I would be powerless to resist, but I fear I would find myself at the end of 1000 arrows."

She inhaled deeply, finally starting to feel calm. The air smelled of roasted fowl and wood smoke, and the soldiers were beginning to smoor their fires and tighten their armor. There was a ripple of expectation in the air, and Amdir realized that they were preparing for battle.

"You are correct, Elrohir. I should be inside. Shall we?"

He looked at her with relief and held the flap of the doorway for her, and she stepped back into the light, joining Uldor who looked at her warmly and took her hand.

"Ah, Amdir. Are you ready for this last leg of your journey?" said the King.

She nodded and offered a wan smile to the assembled warriors, who inclined their heads respectfully. "I am most grateful for your efforts to protect us. I will not disappoint you," she said to the group.

Behind them the flap opened and a small elleth entered the tent.

"I thought you would want to see a friend," said Thranduil, and even Haldir smiled.

"It is a relief to see you alive and well," said Seren, stepping forward to embrace Amdir. Tears came to Amdir's eyes at the sight of the young negotiator who had saved her that day by the Celebrant.

"Do we have much time?" Amdir pulled back long enough to ask Uldor, and the ellon shook his head no.

She turned back to Seren. "Are you well? How is your shoulder?"

Seren laughed. "I am well, and Orophin is fully recovered too. Rumil and I are to be married."

Amdir hugged her again. "I am so pleased for you, I wish I could be there for the wedding,"

"I do too, but just think, my children will be known to the King and Queen of Rhun!"

"For is the King of Mirkwood not enough?"

Seren's eyes widened with alarm and she fell into a low curtsy. "Forgive me, King Thranduil, I am most honoured to know you."

Thranduil's face was stern although his eyes were amused, and Amdir smiled and looked down.

"I am sorry to break up this happy reunion," the King said, "but Amdir and Uldor, it is time."

Seren rose and turned to Amdir, clasping her hands. "Promise me you will be safe."

Amdir offered her a brave smile. "With Uldor at my side, no harm will come to me." She glanced at Haldir just long enough to see the pain in his eyes and felt immediate regret at her words, yet beside her, Uldor glowed. She could not praise one without hurting the other, and the sooner they left, the better.

With a nod, Thranduil dismissed Seren, Haldir and his captains from the tent, and Amdir kept her eyes studiously on the ground, as the March Warden brushed passed her, only looking up when they were gone from sight.

Around her stood the twins, the King and Uldor. Thranduil removed his robe and, for the first time, Amdir realized he wore black armor below. He turned his crystalline blue eyes to them.

"The others will lead the charge. You must move quickly and keep to the shadows. With luck, their lines will be in too much disarray to notice when you slip past the forest entrance. I must away to the other side of the field, for my presence will bring too much attention to you should I try to cover your advance. Uldor,"

The tall, green-eyed elf with the olive skin and tattooed face stepped forward. Thranduil grasped his wrist in a strong shake. "You have protected this daughter of my house up until now. You have shown your worthiness. I know a little someone about kingship and it is my dearest hope that one day, you and Amdir will rule the eastern kingdoms, for they could have no more worthy king than you."

"I am most honoured, and most grateful," said Uldor, holding Thranduil's gaze steadily.

"Elladan, Elrohir, you two know what to do this night. I trust you will succeed. On your return to Imladris, tell your father that the Kingdom of Mirkwood owes Imladris its gratitude, and that he should leave the comfort of his books and travel to my halls to sample my best Dorwinion vintages."

The twins nodded in unison. "Does that invitation extend to his sons, your grace?" said Elladan with a cheeky grin.

Thranduil lifted his brow. "We shall see how tonight goes."

To Amdir he said nothing. He merely embraced her.

Amdir smiled tearfully, and before she knew it, Uldor was placing a dark hooded cloak over her shoulders and a matching one over his own, and then they were outside, following a path away from the assembling army towards the back of the camp, and then west along the edge of the encampment.

There they found a quiet spot hidden in the shadows of a copse of trees on the edge of the field and waited for the sounds of a battle beginning. They were perhaps a half a mile from the mostly likely entrance, a thinly guarded section on the edge of the Rhun host with less than 50 soldiers to protect it.

When the elven army attacked, it was a sight to behold. 1000 suits of silver armor stood on the field facing the forest, within each an elven soldier, erect and noble. Their protective breast plates reflected the light of hundreds of torches.

The Easterlings had assembled along front of the forest, a line of torchlight behind them. For a few minutes they hurled insults that the elves didn't acknowledge. Amdir could make out snippets of speech; the bedroom activities of elven mothers featured prominently alongside threats of blood and dismemberment.

It was too dark to risk valuable horses on either side, so the battle would come down to arrows, swords and hand to hand combat. The elves began first, with a rain of loose arrows that the Easterling deflected with heavy wooden shields.

Two more rounds of arrows, then a fierce onslaught of swords that collided against the Easterling lines with stunning violence.

The sound of metal against metal combined with the war cries of different houses and the wails of death and the wounded, to create a sickening cacophony, but Amdir would not allow herself to turn away. These soldiers were fighting for her and Uldor, and she would remember their efforts.

Around her, her companions wore pained looks on their faces. She had no doubt that each one wished they were on that battlefield rather than hiding with her on the sidelines, but to their credit they said nothing. Each one had a role to play, a responsibility.

She gasped with fear when she saw the Elven King stride into the melee, his silver hair shone in the darkness, and it was easy to follow the progress of his slashing swords, and imagine the bloody carcasses he left in his wake.

Even from her limited vantage point, she could see that these Easterling fighters were no cowards. They ran towards their attackers with wild abandon, sacrificing their lives if need be to save their countrymen. She glanced at Uldor who stood still, his face utterly blank, but his eyes wide as he watched. To know what he could be thinking at that moment…

With a quick jerk of his head, Feren signaled to Uldor, who nodded and touched Elrohir's arm. Elladan turned to his brother and whispered something that caused Elrohir to smirk. They each raised their hood over their head; it was time to move.

"No matter what happens," said Uldor. "Run for the forest. Don't look for me, I will be behind you, I will protect you. Whatever happens, don't look back."

Fear surged in her heart and she took a deep breath. "I love you, Uldor. I love you."

His face broke into a wide smile and he closed his eyes a moment, as though savoring her words, then he drew her close and kissed her fiercely and possessively, leaving her breathless. When he pulled away he said, "Don't look back, meleth, promise me."

"I promise."

He squeezed her hand.

With swords raised, the five hooded elves began to edge out onto the field of battle.

Ahead of them the battle continued to rage, and beneath them the sodden ground was sticky with mud and blood. The fighting had moved to a bit past them, but they were spotted within seconds and immediately Rhunian fighters rushed them, followed by Elven warriors who slashed and parried to step ahead of the Easterlings and protect the small party.

Ahead of Amdir, an Easterling rushed her with his raised sword, but his advance was cut short with a sudden slash from shoulder to hip that almost cut him half. As he collapsed to the ground Amdir glanced the flashing eyes of a Lothlorien soldier who had already downed another attacker as she watched.

Behind her Uldor pushed her forward. "Don't stop moving!" he yelled, as they stepped over bodies and swatted away the bloody hands of the wounded reaching for the hems of their cloaks as they moved.

Loosened arrows whistled over their heads, landing in the mud around them, piercing elven and Rhunian fighters equally, and to her left Feren staggered, raising his shield at the last minute to stop an arrow from piercing his neck, only to lower the shield and cut down an Easterling attacking with a spiked mace all in the space of a second.

To her right, an Easterling ran at her with his sword raised and glistening red. Amdir reared back, sure she was to meet her death, when Elladan's bright sword pierced through the front of the Easterling's belly, and the Easterling stared at her with dark green eyes as he died. Bile rose in her throat and she stopped, but Uldor's strong arm wound around her waist and he half dragged half pulled her on.

She felt a sudden burning in her leg; it buckled under her, and she reached for Uldor's arms to stay upright. A quick glance down revealed an arrow fletching protruding from her thigh. But Uldor redoubled his grip on her, and still they moved towards the tall trees of Fangorn, standing ahead of them like impenetrable black towers.

When she finally looked up, she couldn't see Elladan, Elrohir or Feren, yet way ahead was clear, a line of elven soldiers on each side of them ushered them past the final few meters of the battle ground, and as they passed over the boundary, the forest shuttered around them. The sound of battle faded away and the world became silent, green and still. The trees slowly turned their heads and branches to form a protective circle around the beleaguered refugees.

Uldor's arms that had been tightly around her waist began to loosen, and she heard his laboured breath.

"We made it, Uldor, we made it…."

Uldor stumbled, and Amdir raised her hand to his chest to steady him as they walked, but her leg burned and refused to support her, so she paused to shift her weight. Despite the pain, her sense of relief almost overwhelmed her, and she turned into Uldor to embrace him, to feel his heart against hers, for they had made it, and they were safe.

But as she turned into him, he stumbled again, and this time his weight fell against her and her own wounded legs could not support them both. He fell forward into her arms and she sank down to the ground, her arms under his, trying to keep him upright. As he fell into her, she saw the four red fletchings protruding from his back. The same colour as the fletching in her leg that snapped as his weight fell against it.

He looked up at her, and she watched with horror as his mouth filled with blood, but his eyes were clear, green and beautiful. She pressed her check against him, holding him close, and she heard him whisper, "It was enough," before his last breath escaped him, and his head sank heavily against her.


	21. Strangers Anew

He found her a few hours later, laying beside Uldor's body, unconsciousness from the wound in her leg, and carried her to the abandoned cottage where Thranduil's queen had once lived, and Thranduil himself had visited. This cottage that had been Amdir's destination all along.

There the Elven King himself removed the arrow and laid his hands on the elleth's leg, funneling his healing energy into her, while Haldir and the twins silently watched at a respectful distance, their faces grave.

In a desk in the corner of the small cottage, sat Feren, writing letters that would be delivered to Lothlorien, Imladris and Mirkwood. A fourth letter would be sent to King Ulwarth that night, informing him of his nephew's death.

A small host of the King's guard waited outside the cottage, they had pitched their tents nearby, but the balance of the Mirkwood and Lothlorien forces remained in the camp outside the forest. The latter were already preparing to depart for Caras Galadhon, and then on to Greenwood the Great for the Mirkwood soldiers.

Amdir awoke only once while Thranduil worked on her. She was aware of light around and above her, and watched as tendrils of energy, green and blue, softly wrapped around her body and interlaced with those parts of her fëa that had been ripped apart with the trauma of battle, a gentle stitch in time that brought her comfort, softening and soothing her spirit. She could see Thranduil amidst the light, his eyes closed, his hair hanging in a curtain around his face as his hands softly touched her leg, then her chest. Each time he lifted his hands, he studied her, then he inhaled deeply and began the treatment again. The comforting aroma of kingsfoil surrounded her and the sight of four arrow fletchings faded away into the grace of nothingness.

* * *

When she awoke again, she was in a soft bed and the red light of sunrise filtered through a large window. Her body ached, but the pain in her chest was deeper.  _Uldor. My beautiful Uldor. They killed you, and I am alone._ She pulled the sheet over her head to block out the light, and a deep voice said "Amdir." She knew that voice. She didn't care. She closed her eyes and wished he'd go away.

"My lady," said Elladan. Strong fingers tenderly removed the blanket from her face and when she opened her eyes, his concerned face hovered above her.

"Leave," she said, her voice flat.

Elladan's eyes were gentle and he frowned. "Amdir, we have waited as long as we can. We must burn him today as was his custom, and he would want you there."

 _Not a good morning. Not a 'how do you fair,' rather right to the business at hand._  She stared into space, seeing Uldor's face as he watched her climb that tree in the Wold, and the laughter in his eyes when he removed his tunic as they walked to Riverglen. She remembered the way he held her hand when they crossed the Anduin on the ferry, and she wanted desperately to cry, but the hurt was too deep, too unpredictable, the pain was far too real to be released.  _The business at hand._  Elladan was right, they couldn't wait longer and there was nothing more to be done for it.

She went to swing her legs to the floor and winced as pain seared through her thigh. Elladan quickly leaned forward to limit her movement, but he was too late.

"DAMMIT!" she exclaimed.

"Here," he said, and gently helping her sit up. He passed her a glass of water, then wine, but she pushed them away. "Bring me scissors," she said.

"My lady, why—"

She sank back in her pillows and turned her head, closing her eyes. If not for the pain in her leg, she would doubt the reality of the moment. Perhaps she was still asleep. Perhaps she'd wake up and find herself curled up against her Easterling.

She heard the tall ellon rise. "Of course, Amdir. If that's what you want."

She opened her eyes and watched as the ellon's broad shoulders retreated, then a thought crossed her mind. "Elladan," she said.

He turned around, his long brown hair swinging over his shoulders.

"Do you know who slew Uldor?"

Elladan frowned, but he nodded. "Yes. A fighter belonging to a small house close to Mordor. Haldir dealt with him in the field."

"If only he had done so sooner."

Elladan looked to the ground. "That is true, I am so sorry."

Amdir closed her eyes and sank back into her pillows. "Where are we?"

Elladan's face softened and he took a step towards the bed. "You are in Fangorn, in Queen Isobel's cottage. When he found you, he carried you here."

"The King?"

"No, Haldir. It was after the battle, and both he Thranduil searched for you. When Uldor died, the trees closed in around you and we believe that it wasn't until you lost consciousness that they allowed Haldir to see you. He carried you to the cottage where the King saved your life."

"They should have let me bleed out."

Elladan walked to the foot of bed and carefully sat down. "When our mother left us for the undying lands, I felt the same. I wanted so badly to fade, to join her, I was afraid to live without her. But I was too young to fade away, and so are you. I am so sorry for you, Amdir. I feel that we failed you. We failed Middle-earth."

She looked up when she heard his voice crack and stared at him. Finally, she said, "I'm glad Haldir killed that Easterling. Please tell him he has my gratitude."

Elladan inclined his head. "You could tell him yourself. He has hovered outside the cottage for two days now, he worries you will never wish to see him."

She closed her eyes. None of it seemed real.  _Uldor I wish you were here_.

"He is correct. Please Elladan, bring me the scissors and then leave me for awhile."

* * *

Later that afternoon, a small somber group of ellen gathered on a flat expanse of granite where they had built the pyre. Amdir stood, leaning on Elrohir's arm, with a scarf covering her newly shorn hair, and she watched, tearless, as the flames licked and eventually devoured The Easterling's body.

She tuned out the words spoken by King Thranduil before the fire was lit. Well-meaning as he was, the King did not know Uldor. Nobody knew him.

She looked at each elf in turn, the King, brothers Elrohir and Elladan, Feren, two of the king's guard and one of the Lothlorien soldiers who had graciously offered to help build the pyre, and Haldir of Lothlorien. The ellon she had expected to marry, whom she had given herself to, and thought she loved; but looking at him now, his figure hazy through the heat and smoke rising up from the pyre, she knew the difference between a youthful dream that blooms and fades with the seasons, and the truest bond between two survivors, who bare their souls to one another and honour the vulnerability in each.

Uldor had taught her this important lesson, and now he was gone and her heart was broken, the vulnerability he had protected laid cruelly open.

Her eyes returned to Uldor's body, shrouded in white linen tied neatly at the neck, shoulders, hip and feet. She watched the fire grow around this body that had once housed the soul of her Easterling, and she did not turn away until she saw her own chestnut coloured braid that she had placed over the shroud, ignite.

When she finally looked away, she heard a small, sad 'meow' at her feet. Elrohir bent down to pick up the kitten, and finally, her eyes filled with tears, yet she kept her chin high.

"In the hood of my cloak, please, so he is safe from the fire."

Elrohir did as she bid, gently placing the kitten in the scoop of her hood where it burrowed neatly. Two elves walked up behind them, Elladan and Haldir. The latter's face was ashen with dark hollows under his eyes.

"May I help you?" Haldir asked, but she turned to Elladan and he nodded. She could not bear to face Haldir.

With an apologetic glance to the March Warden, Elladan stepped to her side and she gratefully wrapped her other arm around his neck. In this way, the twins escorted her back to the cottage, Haldir walking as step behind, while the King and his retinue quietly returned to their tents and horses on the outskirts of the forest.

* * *

Haldir found Thranduil sitting alone, cross-legged, in front of a massive and ancient oak tree. His eyes were closed, his face serene. Unlike the rich cloaks and robes he donned in his own palace, here he wore simple leggings and a green tunic. The garb of a Sylvan wood elf. His hair was braided back, and, at first glance, one might have thought it was Prince Legalos sitting under that tree, a youthful unlined face free of worry and responsibility.

Haldir turned to retreat in the opposite direction, leaving to the king to his dreams, when Thranduil spoke.

"They were talking about you."

He turned back. The King was standing and had reacquired his usual intimidating presence.

"Who?" Haldir asked.

Thranduil cast has gaze meaningfully around him, lingering on the largest of trees.

It was late afternoon, the day after the funeral, and the forest was alive with spring. Around haldir's head, colourful hummingbirds and silver-winged cicadas buzzed, and in every tree, young squirrels that had been born in winter were jumping from limb to limb with sticks, feathers, and animal fur to build their first nests.

The forest floor was awash in trilliums that turned their bright white faces up towards velvety green beech leaves, newly unfurled, that were beginning to obscure the thinner branches of the canopy as they grew.

The oak of the tree that Thranduil was now standing beside was covered in dark green moss, for in Fangorn, it rained frequently and the foliage was so thick that the sun rarely penetrated enough to evaporate the water. As a result, most trees, rocks and structures were covered in enough moss to give the forest an otherworldly look that was not far from the reality of those who dwelled there.

Haldir resisted the urge to ask what the trees were whispering about him; if the King wanted him to know, he would share it.

"Did you wish to speak with me?"

Haldir nodded slowly. "It was not my intent, but now that you're here, I would."

Thranduil began to walk down a narrow path that led deeper into the heart of the forest and Haldir fell into step beside him.

"Have you heard from the King in the East?" asked the March Warden.

Thranduil frowned. "I have not, and that tells me more than anything. I had assured him that while a marriage to connect the kingdom would be ideal, it is not necessary to secure a treaty. These humans have a notion that all treaties must be secured with a marriage. Some poor high-born innocent to be sold off as a peace weaver for his or her realm. It is not without honour, but nor is it without its peril, as we have seen."

"Will you offer up another peace weaver?" asked Haldir, a hard edge laced his voice, earning a sharp look from Thranduil.

"I thought I might offer them you," he said.

Haldir snorted, and Thranduil gave him a sideways look, his mouth curved in an amused smile.

"Your quest to get rid of me must be desperate, for you to offer me up as a blushing virgin bride."

"Indeed. But you are no blushing virgin, Haldir O'Lorien, and, and on second thought, if I wish to make peace with Ulwarth, I should not offer him  _you."_

Haldir's smile turned serious. "Even with a prospective bride, Arwen of Elrond or some other comely elleth, whom could she marry?"

The two elves followed the banks of a wide stream as they spoke. Up in the mountains, the snow thawed late, and though it be mid-spring, the stream was swollen with cold clean water from the Misty Mountains.

They came to a spot where two streams met and three large cedar trees stood sentry. Thranduil placed a palm against one of their trunks, then gave it an affectionate pat and turned back to Haldir.

"There will be no more marriage-making for this old King. Ulwarth is without an heir, and with Uldor's death, the lords of Rhun will fight amongst themselves. I suspect that realm will collapse when Ulwarth passes, which will be sooner than later if his enemies are able to reach him. You can breathe a sigh of relief, March Warden, for there is, quite simply, no one for you – or anyone else - to marry."

"And once the King is dead," said Haldir, "Rhun will align fully with Mordor, and it will only be a matter of time before we find them on our doorstep with swords unsheathed, the Vanguard of Mordor's advance."

They fell silent. Both elves understood what had been lost on the battlefield, and the repercussions went far beyond one grieving elleth.

"Has she received you, yet?" asked Thranduil.

Haldir shook his head. "But once, when I offered my condolences. She thanked me for carrying her to the cottage. I will try again this afternoon."

"Hope springs eternal."

Haldir shot Thranduil a dark look.

"Peace, Haldir. The elleth could do worse."

Haldir straightened his shoulders. A positive comment from the taciturn King represented as good a time as any to broach the subject.

"That is what I wished to speak to you about. Before Uldor arrived in Lothlorien, it had been my intent, my hope, that Amdir would become my wife. Although I had not yet declared myself, I believe you knew this."

The King arched a brow. "It was hard to miss. You are many things, but 'subtle' is not one of them."

Haldir felt the urge to knock the smirk off the elven-King's face with a firm backhanded slap, but he kept his hand at side, curling and straightening his fingers to disperse the energy. A movement that was not lost on the elven-King.

"Do not get the wrong idea, I am not here seeking your permission."

Thranduil cocked his head and stared at Haldir. "But you  _are_ declaring yourself. And Uldor's body is barely cold. That is uncharacteristically bold of you, Haldir, I think I almost respect it. But surely you know that the last thing Amdir would accept from me is another order to marry. In fact, I think it's fair to say that, given Amdir's current state of mind, nothing could ruin your chances more than my openly meddling in her affairs."

"My Lord," said Haldir.

"Your Grace," corrected the King.

" _Your Grace._  We have much water under the bridge and Amdir is of your house. Consider this a courtesy notice of my intent to woo the elleth, for if I succeed, I will hardly be asking you for your blessing. Yet we will be standing at that alter together nonetheless, and I would like your assurance that you won't try to marry her off at the next sign of a political opportunity to advance your own interests."

Thranduil's eyes darkened a shade. "My own interests? Yes, I suppose one could consider the safety of all of Middle-earth as 'my interests' but I had hoped for a wider perspective from he who ensures the security of Lothlorien." The King sighed, then looked sideways at Haldir without moving his head.

"Your determination and loyalty to the elleth does you credit, but as ever, your mouth endangers your position. If you wish to woo her, I wish you luck. I doubt you will be successful and think you foolish to try. This will end in tears – your tears, and if, on the slight chance that she does respond, at which point, may I add, I will question my ability to raise elflings at all, but if she does respond, then, because it be _her_  wish, and because of the life debt I frustratingly owe you, you  _will_  have my blessing. But know this: The hardest part of standing at that alter will be my controlling the constant urge to place my fist somewhere between your crooked nose and pointy chin."

Haldir blinked, then one side of his mouth slowly crept up. "As always, King Thranduil, we understand one another."

Thranduil shook his head. "Do not look so pleased, March Warden. When it comes to Amdir and myself, you will find my resistance the easier to overcome. Now leave in me in peace."

Haldir watched thoughtfully as Thranduil walked on, then the march warden turned and made his way back up the path.

When he entered the cottage a few minutes later, he found Feren standing tensely at the window, holding an open letter in his hand.

"Bad news?"

"Rhun responds. It is as we feared. He accuses us of killing Uldor. Says there is no hope for a treaty with murderers."

"Ah, he knows the truth of the matter, but he has decided to make these rogue lords his bannerman, rather than risk open rebellion and being usurped. A smart move from his perspective. A lost cause from ours. Chances are, they will kill him anyways, and he knows that too."

Feren ran his thumb over the broken wax seal. "I keep going over it in my head. We should have assigned more warriors to flank them; we should have called on Lord Elrond to assist, not just his sons."

Haldir exhaled. "More warriors may have made a difference, and Lord Elrond could have joined his sons, he knew the details well enough. No doubt he is second guessing his decision to hold back just as we second guess our decisions. Battle is never clean, old friend, you know this as well as I, and there is no point in lamenting the outcome. It is in Eru Lluvatar's hands now."

"As it ever was," said Feren.

"As it ever will be," replied Haldir.

Feren shook his head and dropped the letter in a bowl on the main table. "Amdir rests in the bed, but I had thought to set up a chair outside, so she may take some air before I bring this letter to the King."

"You are turning into a very capable babysitter, Feren." Quipped Haldir, to which Feren rolled his eyes.

"The sooner Seren arrives, the better."

At that moment the door to the bedroom opened and Amdir limped out, her weight resting on a finely carved walking stick. The black kitten padded softly behind her.

He noticed she was looking better. She was less pale, well-rested, and her limp had diminished much since the day before. She was healing quickly, at least on the outside. With her hair shorn close to her skull, he couldn't help but think that she looked like a rabbit and he smiled.

"What are you talking about?" Her eyes fell to the letter in the bowl, and Feren picked it up and inserted it into the pocket of his tunic.

"Naught to worry over, Amdir. How do you feel?" said Feren.

Her gaze fell upon Haldir, who stood straighter in response. Her eyes were blue and the only real colour in her thin face outside of the barest brush of pink in her cheeks. "Better, I suppose."

Haldir stepped forward. "Amdir, I thought I might carry a chair outside for you if you'd like to take some air?"

Feren raised a brow at Haldir who ignored it.

Amdir frowned and looked to Feren. "Can you not carry it out for me, Master Feren?"

Feren looked awkwardly at Haldir, who lowered his eyes to hide his disappointment. The march warden was at a loss to explain her hostility, but to assume that what he had feared had transpired: She hated him for taking her maidenhead. Not one to easily back down, Haldir redoubled his efforts to make her smile.

"Feren has business with the King, but I am here, and I am your servant ever." He offered her a courtly bow, but kept one eye on her to gauge her reaction.

Before she could speak, Feren interjected, "If you will both excuse me. The King awaits and my news for him cannot."

They watched him leave then Haldir turned back to Amdir. He dropped the pretense. "Won't you let me help you?"

She looked so distraught that Haldir felt sympathy for her and was tempted to leave her if only to give her peace.

"I will return to my bed." She began to maneuver around but Haldir stepped forward and took her arm.

"Do not retire on my account. Please Amdir, you need fresh air and sunlight. Allow me to at least help you outside and then I will leave you."

She tensed up, a deep line forming between her brows, her eyes firmly on the ground.

"Amdir, look at me," he said after he'd looped his arms under her shoulders. But she would not. He signed and helped her outside, only to realize once they got there that he'd forgotten to carry the chair out.

"Feanor's bullocks," he muttered, and was gratified when he saw the barest of smiles flicker across her face. It was a start. He gently placed her on the ground, before disappearing into the cottage and returning with two rustic wooden chairs.

"I think I prefer the grass," she said, leaning back, arms behind her, and with a nod, he placed the chairs to the side of the door, then looked at her, ready to sit down beside her.

"May I?"

"I wish you wouldn't"

"But why, Amdir? I only wish to help."

"I do not wish to accept it from you."

"I don't understand. We are old friends…"

She looked up at him, and the sorrow in her eyes caused his heart to sink into his stomach. It was all he could do to not envelop her there and then, to hold that perfectly round rabbit head close to his heart and tell her that he would look after her forever.

"What if he were here," she said. "How would he feel to see us together?" her voice broke and, again, she turned her face away from him.

He exhaled a heavy breath and sat down beside her. The grass was soft and above them the branches of the upper canopy crisscrossed the sky like a lattice, allowing in speckles of sunlight that danced on the forest floor with the cadence of the wind.

"He would want to know that you are cared for, and he would not begrudge you friendship."

She shook her head slowly. "We don't know this."

In a sense, Haldir agreed. While he was sure that Uldor would want Amdir to be supported by friends, he realized that this support might not extend to him specifically. But the march warden had killed too many men in battle to be bothered by the wishes of ghosts, so he continued.

"Tell me what happened, after you left The Brown Lands."

She looked up into the trees. "I fell in love."

He smiled sadly. It was easy to forget that she was still so young. Barely an adult. He could kill Thranduil for having put her through this. "I can see that. What was he like?"

"You knew him. You travelled with him to the Anduin."

Haldir nodded. "I did. I found him…. Intelligent. Courageous. He was a man with honour."

"An elf with honour," she corrected.

"But with a man's passions, and a deep sense of loyalty."

She finally raised her eyes and looked at Haldir. His stomach flipped over when her gaze met his.

"Yes," she said, oblivious to Haldir's reaction, lost in her own memories of the Easterling. "And he was strong, and funny, and I felt safe with him."

A pang of jealousy stabbed Haldir in the chest, but he forced himself to smile. "Tell me more," he said, working hard to keep the strain from his voice.

"He didn't like climbing trees. That surprised me – an elf who doesn't like trees. But he was raised in Rhun and they didn't have trees. Not like ours. He said that west of the Anduin was the most beautiful place he'd ever seen. That he never believed he'd live to see such sights…"

As she spoke, Haldir leaned back on his hands and listened attentively. Amdir's description of Uldor was consistent with what he himself had seen of the man. It was only natural that she had formed an attachment to him, given the time that they had travelled together. He knew about Amdir's abduction by the orcs, and it made him see red to know that Uldor had left her vulnerable, but then, the Easterling had retrieved her with the help of Elrond's twins and fosterling...

He had expected she would marry him, had hoped it for the good of the realm, yet here she was; in a backwards way, she had been returned to him. The will of the realm or of a single ghost be damned. All he knew is that nobody would ever harm Amdir again, and from now on, he would ensure that she could make her own decisions and live her life on her terms, even if it meant living her life away from him. Yet he hoped that he could make her want to stay.

"What do you think you will do now?" he asked gently.

She shrugged. "I haven't thought about it. This is a safe place, I had hoped that the King will allow me to stay here for a while."

"I spoke to the King earlier. He is not inclined to interfere with your decisions."

She snorted, and his lip twitched. "It will be a fine day when Thranduil gives me autonomy. I don't believe it," she said.

"Believe it. For it is true. Whatever you wish to do, he will support you in every way. As will I."

She turned to him, her face suddenly fierce. "I don't want your support. Why won't you see that?!"

His nostrils flared. "I  _do_  see that, very clearly, but I don't understand why. I am your oldest friend. It was I who saved you when you were an elfling, when I found you wandering the forest after your parents had been killed, and it was I who returned you to Thranduil's Halls. It was I who wrote the King every month for 50 years to ask of your progress. And it was I whom you choose, that afternoon in the Brown Lands. Yet now you refuse my help. You deny even my friendship! I am at a loss…" He furrowed his brows and leaned forward, searching her face for truth.

"Because, Hal…" She stopped.

"Haldir."

"I know your name."

"Yet you won't say it?"

She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, they had filled with tears.

" _I can't._  I don't want him to hear me say your name. He knows I loved you. He knew. He knew everything. That afternoon in Brown, there was a baby, but I lost it. And when I lost it, I was relieved, I was glad. I know it's horrible to say, but it's true. Yet he was saddened because he said that he had never believed he would have a family. He wanted that baby. Even knowing it was yours, he still wanted it because he said it was also mine. He was _that_  good. He looked past all of it, so of course I fell in love with him, how could I not? And now that he is gone, if I allow myself to spend time with you, if I allow myself to be happy with you, even for a moment, then it's like I am forgetting him. Or worse, like I wanted him to die so that I could be with you again."

Haldir couldn't breathe. He abruptly stood and walked a few paces away, his hand on his stomach. He took a few breaths…one…two…then he turned to look at her. "You were pregnant?"

He saw her bite her lip, then she turned her head, but he would not allow her to look away. Not this time.

"Amdir," he said, his tone commanding.

She reluctantly met his eye.

"You were going to raise my baby with Uldor?"

She frowned. "I…I didn't know I had been carrying until after I had lost it. But we were to be married…for the good of the realm," she said weakly.

"No, because you loved him. We established that already," he said sharply, and instantly regretted his tone when he saw her flinch.  _Yet she carried my child._   _She would have raised my child with that man._

He breathed deeply, fighting the urge to lash out. Now was not the time, look at her: She was injured, in mourning. And besides, what could he possibly say? He mastered his emotion and said in a clear voice, "I cannot say that I do not understand or feel sympathy for you, but I…well, a baby. It is much to take in."

She nodded sadly and he knew she was sorry for hurting him. He looked at her, laying on the grass, her leg bandaged, her hair gone, a wounded rabbit indeed, and no longer the young elleth he had known.

He studied the elegant curve of the back of neck where it met her skull and the soft point of porcelain ears. As the silence between them grew, the sound of the birdsong got louder, and the gentle swaying of the trees was more pronounced. He finally had to concede that the young translator he had known had died along with her Easterling, and the elleth laying in the grass beside him now was a nearer to a stranger than the elleth he had loved.

"Haldir?"

A stranger who needed his help to return to the cottage. He nodded and bent down to scoop her up. He held her closer than was necessary, testing if she felt familiar to him, but all he felt was loss, her loss, his own, even that of the Easterling.

He carried her into the cottage and gently laid her in the bed, then turned on his heel to leave, aware of her large eyes following him. She said nothing, and for that he was profoundly grateful, for had he turned around, she would have seen the tears in his eyes and he could not have that.

He banged into Feren in his haste to leave, who put his arms on Haldir's shoulders. "Steady, old friend."

Haldir looked away. "Tell Seren to see that she eats well," he barked. "For she if far too thin." Before Feren could reply, Haldir was out the door and down the path that led to the river, oblivious to the trees that swayed gently around him, turning in tiny measures to watch him pass.


	22. Three in the Morning

Amdir turned onto her back, then back to her belly, then onto her side, finally earning an irritated meow from Dark Sky as she pushed him away when he tried to settle on her hip.

She puffed out her cheeks and exhaled in defeat, flipping onto her back again. Sleep was not to be her friend tonight. Her thigh ached, her heart still felt like it was in 1000 little pieces, and now she had Haldir's hurt to add to her own pain.

Today had been a disaster. She had asked the march warden not to join her, had made it abundantly clear that she was no fit company for him right now. Yet he persisted.

It was not at all fair. She had been traded to Uldor for callous political purpose, asked to be wife to him, to do her duty, and she had stepped up. She had done what Haldir would have done. So why did she feel so damn guilty when she looked at the march warden? Surely it wasn't a crime to fall in love with one's future husband, and besides, wasn't  _she_  supposed to be the injured party?

She turned back onto her side and laid her cheek on her hand, staring at the sliver of moonlight that shone through the trees outside her window.

First, she had wanted nobody more than Haldir, and Uldor had been put in her path. Now she wanted nobody more than Uldor, and it was Haldir who appeared to help dry her tears.

Haldir who saved her childhood, Haldir who brought her to womanhood. Today she had realized for the first time that she was not the only person to have lost something in this terrible mess. Haldir was also grieving. The loss of their future together and now the baby. What a careless thing to have told him, and for what gain? To make him hurt as she hurt?

_Selfish. Careless. Thoughtless!_

She cringed. Uldor would never have done that. He had been through all there was for one to go through, yet he was kind and courteous and chivalrous. She would do better to behave more like Uldor.

The truth was that she hadn't forgotten that day in the Brown Lands. When Haldir touched her, she had come alive. His hands seared her soul and filled her with excitement and pleasure. Even now, she felt a flush creep up her cheeks at the thought of it.

But with Uldor, it was different. Or at least she imagined it would have been different… He had been exciting and exotic, but he was also comforting and thoughtful. He wasn't afraid to show her his tears, yet he could kill a man or orc in the next instant.

Of course, Uldor was broken in many ways. When she tried to touch him, he would flinch. It was so hard for him to receive love, but she knew that, if they'd only had enough time, she could have opened him up, helped him, loved him. After a time, it could have been the way it had been with her and Haldir. Maybe.

What bothered her the most was the not knowing what could have been, and the opportunity that had been stolen from her with those four arrows. And she could not simply turn her back on one who had opened himself up to her as he had. He who had risked so much just to see her safe. He who had told her the darkest secrets of his parentage, knowing that it could mean she would leave him. No, she would not forget Uldor for anyone. He would always be with her.

Dark Sky padded over her waist and settled into the curve of her arm. "At least I still have you; we can miss him together," she said softly. The kitten purred in response.

Outside the window, the wind picked up and the leaves whispered to each other as the branches swayed back and forth. Her thoughts turned to Haldir, who was likely as awake as she, laying in blankets up in a flet near the cottage.

Throughout all of it; her journey to the Brown, the news of the marriage, her and Uldor's journey to Fangorn, she had never once considered what was in Haldir's heart.

She had assumed he thought of her as a child, and it wasn't until that afternoon when she threw herself at him, that she realized he saw her as a full grown elleth and that he too had harbored hopes for their future. But with Uldor in front of her, his humour and dark green eyes absorbing her attention, it had been easy to push thoughts of Haldir from her mind.

She took his affection for granted, and today she had been unforgivably cruel.

The thin creak of the front door opening filtered through the silence, and she lifted her head from the pillow, peering into the dark. From the main room, the glow of a lantern created a bright yellow line underneath her bedroom door.

"Elladan? Elrohir?" she called out. A soft knock sounded at the door.

She paused, listening, before responding with "one moment."

She gently pushed Dark Sky onto the floor and climbed out of bed, reaching for her walking stick, and hastily threw a shawl over her shoulders, before making for the door.

She opened it to find Haldir sitting at the table, his head in his hands. He stood when she emerged, and turned to face her.

She stared. His hair was unbraided, and hung in tangles around his face. He raked long fingers through it, pulling it away from his eyes and tucking it behind his ears. When he looked at her, his irises shone teal, yet his eyes were rimmed with red and his clothing was slightly disheveled. He met her gaze with a combination of anger and hurt.

She took a deep breath. Best to face this head on. "Water?" she asked, hobbling to the sink. Her stomach fluttered with anxiety, but she kept her voice cool.

He shook his head, so she poured a large glass of wine instead. She placed it on the table in front of him, then returned to pour her own. He didn't offer to help, despite the awkwardness of her balancing the wine and the cane; he simply watched her. When their eyes did meet, she looked away for his gaze was utterly haunted and it pained her to see it.

When she finally sat down with her own wine, he offered a brief, perfunctory smile that was gone as soon as it appeared, then he wrapped a large, hand around his glass. His sword hand, for she could see the callouses between his thumb and index finger from gripping the hilt, but they were beautiful hands nonetheless, graceful with long fingers. "I'm not sure that I need any more of this tonight," he said, lifting the wine to his nose to test its aroma.

"I know a King who says that, when it comes to wine, you can never have too much of a good thing."

He gave a sardonic chuckle and tilted the glass towards her. "Long live the King."

They each took a drink.

"Why are you here, Haldir?"

He topped up both glasses, then studied the label on the bottle. He was in no hurry to speak, and she looked around the room as she waited. The cottage was aglow with the single lantern, and the orange light reflected off glassware that lined the rustic shelves. Outside the wind had quieted and forest was silent. In these small hours of the morning, they were the only two awake.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "After I left you today, I spoke with Elladan and Elrohir. They told me what happened with your miscarriage."

When she said nothing, he continued. "Of course they believe the baby was Uldor's," he paused. "While I am not without sympathy for your situation, I am having a hard time accepting that you would not have told me. It was  _my_ baby, and yet you would have denied this to me."

"Did you tell them it was yours?"

He blinked. "You are worried for your reputation?"

"No, of course not, I just…" She took another deep drink of the wine.  _Do better Amdir. You owe him more than this..._  "Please understand. I had no idea until—"

He slammed the glass on the table and she jumped. He leaned forward and grabbed her wrist. "Do not lie to me: You knew. You felt it that day, we both did. We knew you'd conceived. I could not have been alone in feeling this!"

She tried to pull away, but he would not release her.

"I wasn't sure and there was so much happening. I was afraid to think about it. Please Haldir!"

She yanked her wrist back and this time he released her. She drew back, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm sorry I told you at all," she said.

He looked at her with dark eyes and a pulsing jaw. "Of course you are. I should never have known. Raise my child with another, but never tell me. That was the plan." He raised his glass to her. "To a well-constructed plan, a daughter of Thranduil's house indeed," and took a deep drink.

She narrowed her eyes at the barb. She had never seen him like this. Raw, angry, in pain. If she had been a man, she might have feared him, but she knew he wouldn't hurt her. Still, she wanted the old Haldir back, this version was altogether too…  _real_.

"Haldir, stop this. You are acting like—"

"I know how I am acting. Like a ellon who was forced to give up the one he loved. I believe that is exactly how I am acting. Add wine to the mix, and take a good look, because  _this_  is how it looks when you hurt someone who loves you."

He looked to the ceiling with a bitter laugh. "And the irony is that I  _accepted_  giving you up. I didn't like, it broke my heart in two, but I did it for the good of the realm, that overarching cause that drives Great Heroes toward Great Deeds. I did it knowing full well that I was unlikely ever to marry another. You were a second chance for me, Amdir, and I am not so foolish as to think I could have a third. I also had to accept that I was unlikely ever to father an elfling. To know the joy of bringing new life into this world. You did your duty, and I did mine. We  _all_  made sacrifices. But to have kept that child from me…" He took a deep breath. "I can't fathom the cruelty."

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, tears of shame streaming down her face. She shook her head and sniffed. "I am so sorry, Haldir. Forgive me…"

"Did he touch you, Amdir? Did you share what we shared?"

She looked up, shocked. "Haldir!"

"No, you must tell me, I must know. Did he, make love, to you?"

She could not meet his eye. "He couldn't…"

"Couldn't?"

"No, I mean yes… he had difficulty with touch, you see, it was from his past… please, Haldir, I beg you, do not ask me to share this with you."

Haldir paused, then sat back and exhaled through his nose, his eyes closed. When they opened again, his face was altogether calmer. "He never touched you."

"Does that even matter?"

He sat straighter. "Yes, as a matter of fact, it does. You should never have been his to begin with."

Ire rose in her belly. He had no right to cross this line. Uldor was barely dead a week! Haldir stared at her from across the table with challenge in his eyes, and in that moment, she wanted to hate him. "How dare you even comment on this,' she spat. "But if it details you want, let me give them to you. I wanted him, and I tried, I threw myself at him, but  _he_ would not have  _me_."

The ellon scoffed and looked away. "I don't believe that."

She leaned forward. "It is the truth. I would have had him a thousand times if he had let me. Is THAT what you wanted to hear? But he didn't want me. Not like that," the venom in her voice suddenly disappeared and her voice broke. "I tried, but he couldn't bare my touch, and I didn't know how to make that better…"

Haldir pulled his hand down over his face, rubbing his forehead and eyes, then covering his mouth. "What am I doing?" he murmured under his breath, but loud enough that she glanced up and was surprised to see his hostility had turned to sympathy. She wiped her tears with the sleeves of her nightgown. "I'm sorry, Haldir. I don't know what I'm saying anymore."

"No, I am sorry. My being here and saying these things to you, it's wrong. You are in mourning, and I am out of line."

"Perhaps we can call it even?"

"Of course," he said, then paused. "Amdir, may I offer you something? It's definitely in the out of bounds portion of this conversation, but it may help."

She shrugged. "It's three in the morning, we are drinking wine and arguing in the middle of Fangorn Forest, and I am a widow. What makes you think I need help?"

He smiled at her irreverence, then his face grew serious. "It wasn't you, Amdir. It's likely that Uldor suffered significant trauma from his father and the rapes all those years. Those kinds of wounds cannot be healed in a short time. It was not your fault, and I'm sure that it was no reflection of Uldor's love or desire for you."

She sat straighter in her seat. "How do you know this?"

He lowered his voice a measure. "It was a similar situation when the twin's mother, Celebrian, was abducted by orcs. Like Uldor, she was raped repeatedly and suffered significant trauma."

Amdir was silent as she reflected on Haldir's words, then she suddenly looked up with wide eyes. "You knew about his father?"

"Yes, his parentage was known by a select few, but not openly discussed."

She laughed bitterly. "Of course, diplomacy."

Haldir conceded the point.

She took a drink of her wine. "It would seem that I am the last to know all the important details of my life."

"I wouldn't say that, exactly."

"When you killed Maeglin, could you have imagined he had a son?"

The question caught him off guard and he blinked a few times before answering. "I try not to think of a man's family in battle, but I knew he had a niece that I loved. I think that knowing she was the niece of Maeglin made me love her more, because I felt she had more to overcome, and that made her brilliance shine just a bit brighter in my eyes."

The thought made her smile; it was exactly how she felt about Uldor. She went to run her hand down her braid only to realize it was gone. She touched the short hair on her scalp self-consciously, aware of Haldir's eyes on her.

"Why  _did_  you come, Haldir?"

He shook his head. "I honestly don't know. To rail, to lash out. To complain, at the very least. I was upset and drinking, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. But now that I'm here… my rage has evaporated, and now I'm just sad that I couldn't help you more. I have only ever wanted your happiness."

She took a deep, steadying breath. "And I am sorry I didn't consider your happiness more thoughtfully. Especially about the baby. I know I said that I was glad when I lost it, but that's not true. I grieved it very keenly. It was my last thread to you, and when it had gone, I felt that you were gone forever from my life. Even now, despite all that is happened, that baby would have given me a reason to want to live. To lose you, then the baby, then Uldor, I feel like there is nothing left of me."

Haldir stood and walked to the sink to pour some water into a glass and took a long drink. Then he refilled the glass and placed it in front of Amdir.

She looked up at him. Suddenly he was the Haldir of her youth. Older, wiser, and very tall. She smiled as he resumed his seat.

"When I lost Isobel to Thranduil all those years ago," he said, "I thought I would never recover. I wanted to lay down under the great mallorn trees of Lothlorien and fade away, but the Lady of Light recognized my pain, and she reminded me of my responsibilities. She and Lord Celeborn kept me so occupied that year that, at the end of every day, I collapsed into my bed in sheer exhaustion. 'There will be a second chance for you,' she said. 'One day the hurt will ebb, and in its place, you will find you are content with your life and then you will fall in love again, and you will remember that first love, but you will find those once frayed edges now run smooth, and the anger has faded to memory.'

"I didn't believe it at the time, but she was right, for that day I saw you in the courtyard, my heart knew you even before I did. And now Amdir, it is your turn. You have been lucky to know love once, with a good and courageous Easterling, of all things. And one day, once the pain has ebbed, you will have a second chance. I don't know when or what he will be like, but when you see him, you will know with such certainty that you will never question it."

She leaned forward. "And what do I do right now, Haldir? Tell me…"

He smiled and, reaching across the table, took both her hands. He studied them, then turned them over and studied her palms. Then he looked up at her. "Rail. Lash out. Complain. And then, you heal. This is the business of living."

She gave a soft laugh and gently pulled her hands back. "The business of living. I never thought of it like that. I like it."

He smiled. "And Uldor. Would he have liked that?"

She nodded. "I think he would have."

She met his gaze and held it, raising her glass to him. "To the business of living."

They talked until the dark began to lighten and the wine was gone, then Haldir helped Amdir back into her bed and returned to his own flet. When she awoke late that morning, there was a note on the table where they had sat apologizing for his words the night before and explaining that he must return to Caras Galadhon, and from there, resume his patrols.

She let the note fall to the floor and returned to her room to sleep another few hours.


	23. The Silence of Rivendell

“I cannot read the name, I think it is in Sylvan.” Erestor held the bottle of wine in front of him and squinted at the label.

 “Amdir?”

The sound of her name interrupted her daydream. She had thinking about the town of Riverglen, and wondering about the various accents of Westron and whether the children of Riverglen were also schooled in Rhovanion… The two elves sitting across from her at Lord Elrond’s table were looking at her, and she snapped to attention.

Erestor held the bottle to her, and when she read the label, it took all her effort to keep her face neutral. “I fear the King makes a jape at my Lord’s expense,” she said carefully.

Elrond sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes. “What a surprise,” he said dryly. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s a demi-merlot. It reads ‘For when you’re feeling like half the elf you were.’” 

Amdir looked at Elrond nervously, and was relieved when a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. Even the normally serious Erestor smiled.

“How apt. Thank you, Amdir. There are only these letters from King Thranduil left to review, but nothing else in either Rhun or Khuzdul. If my Lord agrees,” Erestor looked to Elrond who was already skimming a hand-written scroll from Mirkwood. “I think we can continue without you.” 

Lord Elrond glanced up at Amdir and released her with a smile. 

She gathered up her dictionaries, then offered the Lord of Rivendell and his advisor a small curtsey before leaving the office.

 Outside in the lavender tiled courtyard, the air was heavy with the scent of roses. Mid-summer on the western side of the mountains was a milder affair than the punishing heat of Mirkwood’s summer. Lord Elrond called it more ‘civilized’, but Amdir secretly missed the extremes of the seasons in Mirkwood.

The sun was still high in a cloudless sky, although edging towards the west, and there were a few hours yet before she had to provide the Rhun translations to Erestor, it was just enough time to take a take a walk down into the valley.  

She had arrived in Imladris nine months past. Elrohir and Elladan had stayed with her in Fangorn. Elrohir hunting and tending their horses, while Elladan, a gifted healer in his own right, continued to treat Amdir’s wound. 

The three had become close friends, and when Amdir told them about Uldor’s dream to join the Peredhil in Imladris for a time, the twins had insisted she visit before returning to Mirkwood. Being in no hurry to see King Thranduil (try as she might, and despite letters from Queen Isobel and Tira to that end, she still hadn’t forgiven him _entirely_ ), she readily agreed. 

Imladris was a delight. While the elves who dwelled there were, at times, intimidatingly sophisticated, they were also warm and kind, and Amdir enjoyed their company very much. She knew they were fond of her and had even grown protective of her. 

On arrival she had received curious glances from both elves and elflings alike, no doubt they had never seen an elleth with short hair, but within a few days, Amdir’s story was well known, and the elves of Rivendell rallied around her, offering her their legendary hospitality and friendship. Nothing was too good for Amdir the Peace Weaver, as she became known, and while the ellyn competed for her attentions, the ellith showered her with affection.

Erestor, on learning about Amdir’s talent with languages, immediately set her to work translating for Lord Elrond, and the elf-lords of Rivendell treated her with such respect that she quickly felt at home. 

And when it all became too much, and she needed a few minutes to recalibrate, pray or simply quiet her mind, she would retreat to the woodland paths and serene silence of Rivendell’s valley.

It was down the side of the mountain that she headed now, following a narrow path that led her through groves of stately oak trees and alongside a merry brook that grew wider and faster until it tumbled suddenly and dramatically down the side of a steep cliff.

At the top of the waterfall, under a copse of trees, there was a small eddy, and here she removed her shoes, then gathered the bottom of her gown in one hand and sat down on a large rock, with her feet in the clear water. 

The cold felt delicious after the heat of the day, and she closed her eyes, refreshed and content, and thought of Uldor. How he would have loved to be surrounded by such beauty. How he would have laughed at the antics of the twins and taken pride in learning the art of governing from Lord Elrond. She quieted her mind to see if she could hear his voice in her head, but as always, there was only silence.  

“Why don’t you come to me in my dreams, Uldor?” she asked aloud, watching the water as it swirled around her calves. “Are Mando’s Halls so beautiful that you have forgotten me?”

She closed her eyes again, but all she heard was the roar of the waterfall.

“There is only one cure for an elf who talks to herself.”

She kept her eyes closed, but smiled. “And what’s that?”

“Company.”

She opened her eyes, arched a brow, then splashed water at him that fell well short of its mark. 

Elladan grinned in response and plopped down in the grass. “So, this is where you come to escape my tyrannical father.” 

She laughed aloud and tucked her chin-length hair behind her ear. “Lord Elrond tyrannical? By the Valar, what must you think of my own Lord King?” 

Elladan happily ignored the question. He wore a dark blue tunic with a mithril and sapphire stag pinned near his shoulder. Unlike Uldor who’d always worn his hair in a single braid, or even Haldir who always wore it braided back at the sides, Elladan’s dark brown hair hung free, artfully tucked behind a single ear. He was much like King Thranduil in that regard, and he was looking at her right now just as Thranduil often did.

“You are giving me your healer look,” she said.

His mouth spread in an easy smile. “Your healer is pleased with your recovery. You look content these days; more at ease.”

“I like it here, surrounded by the half-elven. It’s so…safe.”

Elladan nodded thoughtfully, then he opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. She sat straighter. “Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly. There is to be a meeting of the reconnaissance units for Imladris, Mirkwood, Lothlorien, and the Dwarf Kingdoms of Moria and Erebor. We may even see a contingent from the Grey Havens.”

Amdir raised her brows. “Is this a regular occurrence?”

The elf studied the grass under his hand for a moment with a frown, then met her eyes. “The Dwarves have called this meeting, and, while we know they share information with each other, I cannot remember a time when they wished to share it with us. It is unprecedented. There have been rumors of a dark stranger who has visited both Dwarf Kingdoms seeking something of value. I know little of it, but my father was alarmed when it was mentioned a few weeks back.”

Amdir nodded thoughtfully. “You will be going to this meeting then. Will you be taking your brothers?”

“Elrohir and I will go, but not Strider. He left Imladris today to travel north to see Lord Cirdan. But the reason I’m here is because my father has asked that you accompany us as the official translator for the three realms. I wanted to give you a heads up."

Amdir’s jaw went slack. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

The sun emerged from behind a cloud and shone directly on Elladan’s face, He raised his hand to his forehead to create shade over his eyes, and squinted up at her. “Of course you’re ready. Or perhaps you doubt my father’s judgement?”

“No!” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean that, _of course I trust your father,_ I would never…”

Elladan was struggling not to laugh, and she rolled her eyes. He was always teasing her and somehow, she always fell for it.

“This meeting. I don’t have a choice, do I?”

The laughter finally escaped, and he shook his head. “Indeed you do not. But you _have_ been here almost a year, so perhaps it’s time to spread your wings.”

“Nine months,” she corrected.

“And two weeks?”

She sighed. “And three days…”

He chuckled. “You illustrate my point perfectly, my friend. It’s time for you to reenter the world. It will be good for you to see some kin, and I’ll bet Seren will be there too.”

It was not Seren she wondered about.  Amdir looked at Elladan closely. To her knowledge, the twins were unaware of her romantic attachment to Haldir. Her _former_ romantic attachment, she corrected herself.

She stepped out the river and joined Elladan on the bank, crouching down to dry her feet with her gown and put on her shoes. Elladan stood and offered her an arm up, but she playfully swatted him away.

If they had met at another time, she could easily have fallen for this handsome son of Elrond, accomplished as he was both in healing and warfare, and handsome as he was with his sharp blue eyes, pointed brows like his father’s, and his tall, lithe form.

But as it stood, she was grateful for the unexpected friendship they had formed in Fangorn and, in truth, nobody could replace either of the elves she had loved. They began to make their way back up the path. 

“Will anyone else be there from Lothlorien?” She made an effort to keep her voice light. 

He shrugged. “Presumably yes, but my Adar hasn’t mentioned whom exactly. But don’t worry, once I get confirmation that Seren will be there, I’ll let you know.” 

She nodded and looked at the elf from the tail her eye to make sure he wasn’t baiting her, but he looked utterly unperturbed. “Hanon-le, Elladan. It would be lovely to see her again.”

When they reached the main square, a bevvy or 20 or so elflings were milling around the fountain, each carrying a long bow and a quiver of training arrows, and twittering with excitement.

“Brother!” Elladan called over to Elrohir, who was speaking with a lovely teacher in a green silk gown on the other side of the square. Amdir couldn’t help but look at the elleth’s flowing brown locks with a twinge of envy, as she pushed her own hair away from her eyes. Elrohir raised his chin at them in greeting, but continued his conversation with the teacher who smiled up at him adoringly.

“Elladan!” A small elfling tugged on the elf’s tunic. “Lord Glorfindel is going to teach us archery in the back range.”

“But then why are you all here? Shouldn’t you be preparing yourselves?”

“He’s going to meet us here and make us _march_ to the range, like a column of archers preparing for battle. Laureleth has made us a sigil!” The young ellon’s eyes shone and he smiled wide, showing small white teeth. Behind him stood a small elleth carrying a rather irregularly shaped silk banner sewn with a mountain against a yellow background. It stood as tall as the little elfling holding it, and Amdir bowed her head so that her smile would not be noticed.

Elladan pursed his lips and looked terribly impressed. “You will be the bane of our enemies, Caedor. I wish you luck in the long march to war,” he said with mock gravitas. The young ellon grinned and rejoined his classmates.

“Come this way,” said Elladan to Amdir. “When Glorfindel finally shows, there’s bound to be a riot.”

He placed her hand over his arm and made a show of leading her around the throng, to the delight of the ellith who giggled and whispered as they passed, and the chagrin of the ellen, who wrinkled their noses, presumably wondering why Elladan wouldn’t rather he be off shooting arrows with Glorfindel. 

They made their way towards Elrond’s office, just in time to meet the elven Lord and his advisor Erestor as they emerged. Lord Elrond raised an amused brow at the commotion.

“Amdir, Elladan, well met,” said Elrond, raising his voice above the playful shouting of the elflings. The four walked towards the music verandah quickly, to escape the din.

“There is something that I wished to speak to you about. But first, Elladan, go speak with your brother and find out whose idea it was to have the elflings gather in the main square.”

“I believe it was Glorfindel’s, Ada. He is going to teach them to march, and then he’s promised to conduct an archery class.”

“Ah, well that would explain it.” 

“Leave it to Lord Glorfindel to be unorthodox,” quipped Erestor.

As they turned the corner and entered the music verandah, the sound of the young students all but disappeared and was replaced by the soft strums of a harpist, practicing a new arrangement. Elrond turned his attention to the elleth.

“You are to leave Rivendell,” he said. “You will be joining my sons, and delegations from both Mirkwood and Caras Galadhon to meet with the Dwarves of Moria and Erebor, where you will act as senior translator for all three realms.” He peered at her. “You do not look surprised.”

The four elves seated themselves at a marble table and were quickly served wine and fruit. Elladan ignored the wine but took a handful of grapes, offering some to Amdir who plucked a large fat one from the top.

“Elladan shared the news with me earlier,” she offered.

Elrond took a sip of the wine then sat back in his seat, gazing thoughtfully at the view.

All of Imladris overlooked at lush valley of deciduous forest that grew upon dramatic quartz and granite cliffs, and when the sun was at the right point, the cliffs sparkled white where the stone was exposed. From a distance it looked like snow.

Cold clean water from the mountains travelled down the valley and pooled at its foot by way of countless waterfalls, and there was always a mist that rose from the valley that kept the air cool in summer and covered the trees in a film of frost at the beginning of each winter.

The thought of leaving this place filled her with sadness and it must have shown on her face, for Elrond leaned across the table and touched her hand.

“I have written to King Thranduil, and you are welcome to return to us after this mission, and continue your work here.” He exchanged a look with Elladan. “Indefinitely, if you wish.”

A flush crept up her neck. “I had not thought to leave so soon, but the thought of staying … I am honoured that you would have me.” A slow smile bloomed across her face, and when she met Elrond’s dark blue eyes, so much like his son’s, he said “You have had enough sadness in your young life. The honour is Rivendell’s, Amdir the Peace Weaver.”

She looked at Erestor who smiled politely, although it was clear his mind was on other things, and to Elladan, who smiled warmly, his blue eyes bright. Her gaze lingered on her friend. She had never looked at him in _that_ way before, but she could do worse, she realized, she could do worse on all fronts. For once, it seemed that fate was playing her a kind hand.

Erestor cleared his throat. “The meeting,” he said, returning to the real topic at hand. “If it is settled, Amdir and the twins will leave on the morrow. You will travel to Lothlorien first, and there join with Seren, Uirion and Haldir.”

Her stomach jumped.

“Your old friend, is he not?” asked Elrond.

She took a sip of wine. “errrr…yes. He found me when I was an elfling after the orcs killed my parents, and delivered me to the King. He saved my life, and oversaw my education to a large degree. As much as the King would permit.”

“Kin in Mirkwood, supporters in Lothlorien, and now you serve Imladris. With so many ties, in time you could easily move into a diplomatic post,” said Erestor.

She looked alarmed. “Thank you, but I assure you, my grasp on diplomacy is limited at best, and it would appear that, no matter how often I am thrust in the middle of diplomatic action, it does not improve. I am most honoured to serve as translator.”

Elrond chuckled. “It is important to know one’s limits.”

“Does my Lord know who will be representing my own Kingdom?”

Elladan leaned in. “The King will likely send Feren and Legolas. Perhaps the Prince’s second in command. I have forgotten her name…”

“Tauriel,” Amdir supplied.

Erestor rose quite suddenly. “This is all very diverting,” he said dryly, “but I have work to do and, Amdir, I believe you have some reports for me?”

Amdir was used to Erestor’s moods. Elrond’s closest advisor worked tirelessly to advance the interests of Rivendell, and although his manner was taciturn, she knew there was a warm heart beneath the stern exterior. She pushed her chair out and stood.

“Yes, Lord Erestor. I’d like to give them one last proof, but will have them to you in 30 minutes.”

Erestor looked satisfied. “I will meet you in my office at that time.” 

Amdir repressed a sigh, she was grateful for his trust, after all, and with respectful curtsey, headed off in the direction of her apartments to gather the report.


	24. Brotherly Love and Arrows

The journey to Lothlorien was blessedly uneventful, and took them three weeks on horseback via the Redhorn Pass. She travelled between the twins on a large grey mare named Lus that had a calm countenance and a steady step. By the time they led their horses to the checkpoint flets near the Silverlode, they were exhausted, dirty and ready for a hot bath and a soft bed.

The elves looked up but there were no Lorien guards to challenge them. Elrohir smirked at Elladan. “Resting on the job, are they?”

“Unlikely,” his brother answered. “The only reason they are not above to greet us is because they are all around us.”

Amdir looked around the forest with wide eyes. While she knew they were safe, the entrance to Lothlorien always unnerved her, and the sudden appearance of 20 march wardens always gave her a fright. This time was no different, and her heart jumped when they finally stepped out the trees as though appearing from thin air.

She raised her hand to her chest and took a deep breath to calm herself. Elladan suppressed his smile as he looked at her, and raised his brows as though to say, “Are you alright?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at her own foolishness. _I’m fine, nothing to see here._ He chuckled and stepped closer to her.

Orophin stepped forward and clasped Elrohir’s wrists in warriors’ greeting, and to her left, Rumil already had a hand on Elladan’s shoulder, and his head was inclined towards the elder twin as the old friends exchanged greetings and friendly insults.

Out from behind a small grouping of guards, stepped Haldir. He wore the same grey and brown tunic as his colleagues, and his hair was tightly braided away from his face, accentuating the sharpness of his cheekbones. He looked leaner than when she had last seen him; the planes of his face more defined and his jaw more chiseled. There was a hardness to his demeanor that took her by surprise.  

He smiled at the twins then his clear blue eyes fell on Amdir. She met his gaze with a hesitant smile, and after a few moments, he nodded. “Mae Govannen, how was your journey?”

He reached out to grasp Elrohir’s wrist first, then Elladan’s, while Orophin and Rumil smiled warmly at Amdir.

“Congratulations, Rumil. I understand your wife is expecting,” she said.

The slender silver-haired guard flushed, and his eyes dipped to the ground, he couldn’t contain his grin. Orophin rolled his eyes and gave him a quick punch in the stomach. “Now that he’s an old married ellon, I’ve got to keep him on his toes.”

Amdir laughed as Rumil gave his brother a dirty look.

“I understand that,” said Elrohir, elbowing Elladan. “Except this one is too ugly to marry.”

“It’s like looking in a mirror, brother,” replied Elladan with a retaliatory shove.

An amused smile played the sides of Haldir’s mouth, and he glanced at Amdir. “Consider yourself lucky that you do not have brothers.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s immune to it,” laughed Elladan, ruffling her hair playfully, causing her to squeal and duck her head. Laughing, she pushed him away, then smoothed her tunic. When she looked up, Haldir was watching them with a wistful look on his face that immediately shuttered to a polite smile as he turned back to his guards.

Rumil, Orophin and Haldir helped them unpack and tend the horses, while the other elves either disappeared back into the forest to resume their watch or walked with them up to the series of sentry flets where Amdir knew from experience, they would camp the night.

  
Before long the horses were fed and watered, and the company of six now rested comfortably atop a wooden platform on the highest flet, causally sharing a meal of cheese, fresh salmon, and sweet pastries that put Amdir in mind of the ones that Liadan used to make to fuel late nights of girlish chatter. It felt like a century ago.

She had exchanged letters with Liadan at least once per month, but hadn’t shared that she was coming, although by now, Liadan would surely know. She washed her meal down with Lothlorien’s best Dorwinion wine and looked over to Rumil who sat in font of her, cross legged.

“Will I have time to visit with Liadan, do you think, before we depart again?”

He smiled. The red of a fading sun illuminated his cat-like face with his sleek triangular eyes and high cheekbones. From across the flet, she saw Haldir raise his eyes to them. She looked back to Rumil who had leaned over to refill her wine glass. “I should hope so. She and Seren have gifts for you. I think their plan is to entice you to return to Caras Galadhon after the meeting.”

She smiled. “That is kind of them, but Lord Elrond has asked me to stay on indefinitely,” she said, again glancing over to Haldir, who was now talking to Elladan and Elrohir, his arm resting upon a knee tucked into his chest, and a glass of wine dangling casually from his long fingers. She had forgotten how graceful he was, his movements spare and fluid. _He looks like one of the Valar._

Although he sat at the other side of the flet, she knew he could hear their conversation, provided he was interested enough to listen. Not that _she_ was interested… He looked down and laughed at something Elrohir said, and when he looked up, he caught her eye.

Rumil followed the direction of her gaze and paused, studying her for a moment. She looked away immediately, but it was too late, and she could feel her cheeks flush. Rumil took a sip of his wine.

“We were all very sorry to hear about what happened to you and the East…Uldor. It was hard to not be there to help, but with Orophin’s injury...” His eyes flicked across the flet to where his brother was laughing at something Elladan had said. “Do you feel recovered now?”

She exhaled a large breath. _Recovered? Is that how she was supposed to feel?_ She looked at Rumil’s open face, so much like his brother’s, and shook her head sadly.

“No, I do not feel at all recovered. I am content at times, I am happy in my work, and Imladris is beautiful beyond measure. But I’m not sure that one ever _recovers_ from something like that. At this point, I am just grateful that I survived it, and regret that the treaty was not forged. At times I fear for the future; so much has been lost.”

She was dimly aware that the various conversations around the flet had died away and all were now silent, listening. But Rumil kept his gaze on her, encouraging her to speak, and, in the safety of his kind blue eyes, she continued.  

“When Uldor first took me, I was so angry, I thought he was cruel and dangerous. He tied my wrists, you know, he said it was because I punched him, which I did,” she shook her head and laughed at the absurd thought that she ever could have raised a hand to him. “But very quickly I saw there was more beneath him than that. He was not at all cruel; he was brave and smart and funny. When I learnt we were to be married, he promised me that regardless of the situation, he would only accept me if I came to him by choice, and after a time, and to my absolute surprise, I did. I am quite sure that I was a terrible choice for queen, even if I could speak the language, but he would have made a splendid king, this I know. The Men of the Brown loved him, and would have followed him anywhere. And I would have too. He had that effect on people – and elves. In the towns around the Brown Lands, he is -was- a hero and I worry for them now. It is hard to believe that it’s only been ten months…”

“And one week.”

Her eyes glistened, but she smiled at Elladan.

“And four days,” she said in a thick voice. “We were all a part of it, everyone on this flet. And Seren. I wish she were here now, like all of you, she would understand what we went through.”

At this Rumil leaned forward and touched her arm. She blinked in surprise. While Rumil was known to be the more passionate of the two younger brothers, he had always kept a respectful distance from Amdir. She smiled and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

“We were sorry when we learnt of what happened to him,” said Orophin.

“And to you,” said Haldir, fixing his gaze on her. “We often forget that casualties of war are not just on the battlefield.”

Rumil leaned back. “It is true. They asked far too much of you, in my opinion. It should never have happened.”

Orophin put a hand on his brother’s sleeve. “Rumil…”

Elladan spoke up. “No, I agree. It was too much to ask such a young elleth. Marriage alliances are for men, not for elves. It is not our way. That man _stole_ her, you heard her say it yourselves. And to expect she’d marry him…”

Amdir sat up. “ _That man_?” She shot Elladan a dirty look but he had locked eyes with Rumil and didn’t see it.  

“It was for the good of the realms, and it was a smart move on behalf of King Thranduil. Had it succeeded, it would have secured the safety of all our realms plus the free men, and the Peredhel was honourable,” interjected Elrohir.

“It never had chance, brother,” said Elladan. “Both she and the Easterling were sacrificed for no good reason, it is shameful.”

Rumil spoke up. “It _might_ have had a chance if Rivendell had sent soldiers. Where were your banners when the arrows flew?”

Elladan was taken aback and Elrohir’s eyes flashed. “You imply that we did not do our part! Who do you think rescued Amdir when she was abducted? Surely none of the Galadhrim. At least we actually fought with Easterling.”

Rumil’s face reddened. “That is not fair, you know my brother was injured. He almost died trying to protect them! And Haldir was there. The real question is where was Rivendell before? And where since? While your soldiers hid in your valley, we were busy with King Thranduil trying to negotiate a treaty. And besides,” Rumil scoffed. “What good are only two warriors? Skilled though you may be, it was not enough, and well your father knows it!”

Elrohir and Elladan stood up in unison, eyes flashing, fists clenched, only to be met with Rumil and Orophin who aggressively mirrored their stance.

Surely, they were not about to fight? She stood in alarm. “Stop!”

“And why should we?” challenged Elrohir. “They insult our honour. The honour of the Peredhil and of our father.”

She raised her hands. “ _Please_ , do not fight over what happened. If Uldor was here right now, I know that he would not question any of your decisions, and nor do I. We all did what was best, and you were all there helping me in one way or another. I cannot feel peace if I know you are at odds over it.”

A profound silence settled over the flet. For the first time she noticed that four guards stood behind the twins, bows drawn, and arrows pointed.

Elladan took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, while Orophin unclenched his jaw and relaxed his shoulders. Rumil nodded, but Elrohir stood firm.

“You insulted our honour,” he said stubbornly to Rumil, utterly ignoring the archers.  

Haldir stepped forward. “And for that, my brothers are sorry. It was a rash thing to say,” He stared pointedly at Rumil, “and not a reflection of how the Galadhrim view their kin across the mountain.”

Elrohir rubbed the back of his neck, then nodded. The four guards that had suddenly materialized when voices were raised, lowered their bows at Haldir’s nod and stepped back four paces.

Amdir turned to the march warden in disbelief.  “You summoned your _guards_?”

“It is procedure.”

Her brows lifted to her hairline. “But we are friends! Surely your allies from Imladris can be trusted no matter how heated the debate. How dare you have your guards draw their bows!”

The two sets of brothers looked at her in shocked silence. Elladan went to step forward but his brother restrained him with a discreet touch to his arm.

Haldir exhaled impatiently. “Come Amdir, you over-react. My guards are merely following instructions.”

He turned to his unit. “Dismissed,” he said curtly, and the elves melted back into the forest without a sound.

“I am not overreacting. _They_ are my family now, and I—”

“ _You_ are in need of a walk,” said Haldir curtly. “Some fresh night air. It’s been a long day.”

Her nostrils flared, and she raised a hand to keep him at a distance. “You overstep your mark, march warden. I am your guest, not a elfling in your care.”

He stared at her and she saw his eyes dip down to her breasts, then hips, then back up to her face. “Lower your voice, there is no need for further conflict,” he said, his voice a measure softer.

She glared. “And if I raise it again, will your archers point their arrows at me?”

“They would not target an elf maiden,” said Orophin, and Amdir and Haldir looked at each other, and the twins kept their eyes to the ground. She was no elf maiden.  

“Orophin speaks the truth,” Haldir said, but she saw him glance at the branches above them nonetheless.

She shook her head at him, then turned away. The red of the sunset had deepened to the dark slate of night, and the trees that surrounded them were now in shadow. She saw a movement out of the corner of her eye along one of the branches, a flash of light reflected in a sharp elven eye, then it was gone.

She sighed, and for the first time since she had left Mirkwood to travel to Lothlorien to complete her education, she well and truly missed home. She missed quiet conversations with the wise healer Tira, with whom she’d lived. She even missed her Lord King. How he would let her sit by his hearth at night, chatting about her day with him and Queen Isobel, and laugh at her misadventures. She had forgotten that. _He_ would not stand here bickering over battles lost. He would expect her to act like a daughter of his house.

The ellon had returned to their activities, although a thick and awkward silence prevailed.

When she turned back around, all but Haldir were quietly clearing up the food and unfurling their bedrolls. Haldir, however, had not moved, he stood patiently watching her.

She spoke to him, although she knew the others were listening as they worked.

“Forgive me for making this so awkward. It was not my intent. You are right, Haldir. I am tired and need to clear my head. I will take that walk alone.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to walk unaccompanied,” he said. “I will go with you.”

She opened her mouth to protest but thought of the King, and gracefully nodded her assent.

As they descended the rope ladder, she could hear the elves above speaking quietly to one another, their voices calm, and their tones measured.

She was reminded that her grief was not unique, yet you didn’t see the twins bemoaning the loss of their mother, or Haldir and his brothers crying over their parents. She knew Haldir was simply doing his job, and from the looks on their faces, the twins understood this too and weren't concerned.

She had not expected that being back in Lothlorien would trigger her in this way, but seeing Orophin, Rumil and Haldir together like this brought back the reality of all that had happened. The emotion hit her like a wave crashing into a sea wall, and the moment they landed on the ground, she took off down the narrow path, walking quickly.

“You do not know the forest,” he warned.

“I was raised in Mirkwood, I _know_ forests,” she replied over her shoulder, only to be thumped in the temple by a low hanging branch.

“Clearly.” he said behind her, and she felt a strong hand touch her shoulder. “You lost your temper tonight.”  

She turned around, rubbing her head where the branch hit. “You had your guards draw their bows at my party. You do not trust us.”

He sighed. “It is procedure. Elladan and Elrohir, both know that. They take no offense.”

“And what of me? They are _my_ party. First you insult their honour and then you sick your guards on them. You warned me to lower my voice. How are we supposed to feel safe here, if we are being watched like prisoners?”

He shook his head impatiently. “I insulted no one, nor did I ‘sick’ my guards on the twins, our sentries are trained to approach in such situations to avoid bloodshed, and you _know_ you are not prisoners, so stop the pretense and tell me what is really going on here.”

She said nothing.

He continued, a note of irritation in his voice. “The insult was unfortunate, but we have known each other for centuries, they are kin to my Lords and our bond is unbreakable. Amdir, those four elves have been sparring for a thousand years, and right now, if we were to go back, they will probably be asleep and tomorrow it will long forgotten.”

He was right, and she was embarrassed to admit it, but there it was. She exhaled a shaky breath.

“Oh Haldir…”

He stepped forward and took her arm gently. “Amdir, what can I do for you? Let me help.”

She raised her fingers to the bridge of her nose. Then she lifted her face and, for the first time, really looked around. They stood in a clearing, amidst a grove of massive mallorns. The leaves shone gold in the starlight, and around them, fireflies danced. The air was rich with the scent of the orchids that grew along the edge of the Silverlode and it felt good to fill her lungs.   

“Come,” he said, ushering her over to a large fallen tree trunk that was covered in soft moss. She sat beside him and went to lean against his shoulder, but he sat forward with his elbows on his knees. She touched his back gently, and he straightened up, then turned to her.

“Do you remember we sat like this, that night when Sidu and Lor had died, and you gave me your clothes?”

He exhaled through his nose and smiled, bobbing his head. “Aye. And it was almost as dark as it is now.”

“And we were almost as sad.”

He turned his head and looked at her. “I promised that I wouldn’t let anything else happen to you. I failed you in that one, I admit, but you cannot believe my own guards would ever injure you. There is not an elf in Lothlorien who doesn’t know how important you are to me.”

Warmth kindled in her belly and spread throughout her limbs. Her face spread in a slow smile, her anger all but forgotten.  

 “How have you been Haldir?” she asked quietly.

He drew back. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “I mean, how are you? You left Fangorn so suddenly, and it’s been almost a year.”

“Ten months,” he corrected.

She smiled sadly. _He would know the days if I asked him._ “Yes, ten months. And I’m sure it hasn’t been easy. I have often wondered how you are. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, I don’t mean to pry.”

He made noise that sounded like a half-laugh. “No, it’s just that I can’t remember the last time someone asked me that,”

She looked at him closely. “I’d like to know.”

He turned to face her and, in the moonlight, his eyes were deep shadows, and his hair shone silver. _Like one of the valar_.  

“I thought I was doing better, until I saw you,” he said, quietly. She watched as he flexed and unflexed his hand. It was hard for him, to open up, she could she that. Perhaps she should not have asked… He waited for her to respond, but when she said nothing, he continued.

“The last ten months have been hard.”

Again he paused, and again she resisted the urge to fill the silence. _Just listen._ _She owed him that._

He took a deep breath. “I thought that when I returned, I could go back to normal. But thoughts of the baby you lost – we lost - stayed with me. I was so _angry_. How I hated him, and you, for loving him. I was not myself, but after a few months, the anger went away, and that was even worse. The anger had fortified me and kept my sadness at bay,” he paused and took a labored breath, “and I am profoundly sad, Amdir. I can’t seem to make my life what it was before the Easterling arrived. I feel like every day a piece of me slips away, and I don’t know how get those pieces back. After all of that, I thought it would be hard to see you; I have dreaded your arrival, but now that you are here, I see that it barely matters. You are not the elleth I knew. You are much changed, and I realize that neither of us can go back. And so, I feel the loss even more keenly for knowing that, and for knowing that I can’t share it with you, because the version I knew and fell in love with, is gone.”

His words washed over her and she felt her blood still, just for a moment. She had asked, and he had answered with brutal honestly and heart-breaking sincerity. This strong and fierce warrior had made himself vulnerable to her for a time, and she had betrayed that trust. Now that channel was closed to her forever. He had moved on, she realized. He was no longer her Haldir, waiting in the wings. He was no longer her fallback, and she felt the unexpected loss of his support in the pit of her stomach.

“I see,” she said. “I am sorry for what you have gone through.” It sounded paltry, but at least it was sincere. She bit her lip hard. “And I’m sorry I didn’t realize it before. I thought I did the best I could, but now I see I could have done better.”

He took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled. “We all could have, but the Valar have their own plans for us, and when we know better, we do better. There is no point in looking back. I learnt that a long time ago. We will always share a bond, but we must each look to a future elsewhere, and be at peace with that.”

“Yes.” She wanted to say more, to prolong the conversation somehow, but her voice was beginning to shake and she didn’t want him to hear it. She nodded instead and forced a thin smile onto her face. _If I look at him, I’ll cry. I will cry for the next year. I will not look at him. He is a stranger now_.

She stood, and he followed suit, and when they began to walk, he went to take her arm, _he is always so chivalrous_ , but she gently pushed him away and they walked side by side, back to the flet in silence.

By the time they returned the others were asleep in their bedrolls, as he had predicted, and a lone sentry stood at one corner of the platform, staring out into the dark of the forest.

Amdir quietly climbed into a bedroll that had been set up between Elladan and Elrohir, and watched as Haldir replaced the sentry. Then she turned to her side and sleep found her quickly.  


	25. It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better

She was pulled out of sleep by the sound of soft voices down below. A woman's voice with low, rich timbre drifted up to the flet from the forest floor. A human voice. Amdir scrambled out of her sleeping roll to peer down at the forest beneath her.

A brilliant dawn had arrived, bathing the tops of the trees in hues of rose and blue, but beneath the canopy, the forest floor still lay in shadows. Through the dim, she could easily make out Rumil and Elladan speaking with a slender figure dressed in a dark wool scarf wound around her head and face. The woman looked up and Amdir met her dark kohl outlined eyes with a shock.

Thankful for once for her short hair, she quickly made her way towards the ladder, stepping over the sleeping elves, including Haldir. She paused; should she wake him?

The ellon slept on his back with a muscular arm thrown over his head and his face was relaxed, his mouth slightly open. She had never seen him unguarded before, let alone asleep, and she studied him curiously. He had probably only had a few hours of rest if he had taken the night watch. Let him sleep before the others awaken him.

His blanket had worked its way down to his waist, and she leaned down to recover him, but the moment she touched the bedroll, Haldir's eyes flew open and he grabbed her wrist with such speed that she gasped.

On seeing her face, he took a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled slowly, releasing her wrist and, levering himself up onto his elbows, looked around. "What is it, Amdir?" he asked, instantly alert.

She leaned in. "Aea is here," she whispered, close enough that his scent of grass and leather filled her senses.

Haldir's eyes widened and the question hung between them: Why on Middle-earth would Uldor's half-sister travel to Lothlorien? He stood, taking but a moment to straighten his tunic then making for the ladder, as intent as she was to see what was going on.

By the time they reached the forest floor, Rumil was helping Aea with her horse. The woman turned around and greeted Amdir with a hesitant smile. She looked much like her brother, and Amdir could not help but step forward and embrace her.

Aea hugged her back.

"I'm so sorry about your brother," said Amdir.

"And I am sorry for your betrothed. When I learned what had happened… all of it, I couldn't believe it." Aea wiped tears away from her face, smudging the kohl around her eyes slightly. "First Sidu and Lor, now Uldor."

Amdir nodded sympathetically, then looked up at the anxious faces of Elladan and Rumil. "Aea, I am happy to see you, but it is a long journey to make…"

Elladan stepped forward. "There is trouble afoot," he said to Haldir.

Aea nodded and picked up the conversation. "There is a lord of Mordor," she said. "A petty lord of a small holding near Dagorlad. His men were heard boasting in a tavern in Riverglen that Mordor was sending a battalion of orcs to prevent a meeting between dwarves and elves. They said the meeting is to be held in Erebor near the end of the month. The Men of the Brown have ears everywhere, we hear much, some of it real, some of it no more than drunken boasts. But this rang true, and I came to warn you. If this meeting is real, please do not go."

Haldir studied her with narrowed eyes, taking her measure. "And you came here to tell us this in person?"

She looked down, clearly gathering her thoughts, and the elves watched her with tilted heads.

"Through the negotiations with the Elvenking and your Lord and Lady, my brother would one day have been King himself, and with a beautiful wife and a brood of children. The elves of Mirkwood and Lothlorien – and Rivendell too - gave him a future beyond the Brown Lands, and permission to hope, and I think it is the closest he ever came to happiness. I loved him, and I feel I owe you a debt."

Haldir stared at her, his posture rigid and his mouth a firm thin line. Amdir felt a surge of irritation at his reluctance to accept her explanation. She understood perfectly, but then she had known Uldor for more than the day or two that Haldir had gotten to know him.

Aea held Haldir's gaze, then blinked, but she didn't look away. "I could have sent a messenger instead, but I wanted to come myself and see where he had been. I was not there when he died, I felt I must do something to mark his passing."

She looked around and her eyes met Amdir's, who smiled with understanding and took Aea's hand. A look of annoyance flashed across Haldir's face.

"I'm glad you are here," Amdir said. "Thank you for coming in person."

"I had worried that seeing me might bring you pain."

Amdir shook her head. "No, seeing you reminds me of how beautiful he was. I was starting to forget his face, but I see so much of him in you. Even your accent reminds me, and now I can picture him as though he were in front of me."

Aea reached out and touched the top of Amdir's head. "Thank you for this," she said. "He went knowing he was loved."

"What are your plans now?" Haldir asked the woman, his voice neutral.

She shrugged. "I will return to the Brown Lands. My message is delivered."

Haldir nodded. "I believe you, Aea," he said. "And whatever your motivations, I am grateful for the message.

"We cannot linger in Lothlorien," he continued, looking pointedly at Rumil and Elladan. "We most move immediately, head north. Aea, if this battalion is on the march, it would be dangerous for you to travel back east alone and I cannot spare you an escort. You will come with us to Mirkwood; you will be made welcome in Thranduil's court."

Amdir's heart jumped. Mirkwood! It was the first time anyone had said where they were going, and a surge of joy filled her. She would see Queen Isobel and Tirathuil, not to mention her other kin. And the King. She supposed she would see him too. She turned to Aea but the woman had stepped towards Haldir, with whom her gaze was now locked.

"I appreciate your concern, but I wish to return to The Brown Lands. I do not require an escort."

Haldir stood tall and very still. He looked at Aea with hard, unblinking eyes that made even Amdir shrink back. So, this was the other side he had spoke of all those months ago when they'd had tea in the garden. "I think not. The moment you crossed into Lothlorien, your safety became my responsibility. You will travel with us, and I will deliver you to the Elvenking. Once you are within his borders, the King will decide when you may return."

Elladan and Rumil quietly moved to stand behind Aea, who looked around her, her face stamped with indignance. "Do you think I'm a spy? I travel with no weapons, I am no threat to you."

"It is true, but for a hunting dagger, she is free of weapons," offered Rumil.

Haldir nodded. "Then I am sure you will enjoy the chance to reconnect with friends. Rumil, return to Caras Galadhon and tell them our plans. Have the supplies meet us on the north end of the river, along with Seren. Aea, your horse will be weary, for now, you will ride with me."

Aea looked like she was about to say something, but wisely kept quiet. Haldir did not look like he was in the mood to have his commands questions.

Still, petty as it was, Amdir did not like the idea of Aea riding with Haldir. The woman was now speaking with Elrohir, so Amdir rushed to catch up with Haldir as he walked away.

"You didn't tell me we were going home" she said.

He stared ahead as he made his way over to their horses. "It was not important for you to know."

"It is my home. How is my home not important?"

"It is a quick stop before we travel on to Erebor."

"So it is true?"

He finally turned to look at her, then ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. Amdir could see he was tired, and he answered her in clipped tones.

"It is true. If you wish, you can stay in Lothlorien with Liadan, as you had hoped. You needn't endanger yourself further, or you can travel with us to Mirkwood and remain there. There are other translators we can use as our need for one who speaks Rhun has diminished considerably."

"Haldir!" Rumil had caught up to them, and he was now staring at the March Warden with a reproachful look on his face.

Amdir pushed her hurt aside and raised her chin. "Thank you, Rumil, but your brother merely speaks the truth and seeks to protect me, I'm sure."

Rumil raised a brow and Haldir looked away with irritation.

"Thank you for your concern, Haldir. There are many translators, but Master Elrond choose me, and I will go with you. Besides, if you were to show up without me in Mirkwood, wine would not be the only thing spilled."

Haldir looked at her for a long moment, then one side of his lips lifted in a half-smile and he snorted. "Very true. Right then; we are settled. Rumil: Wake the others, we move immediately."

The Elves turned away. "Haldir, wait," she called to him. But he was already halfway to the horses and chose not to hear her.

* * *

"Rhaich nin!" Amdir clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut in pain.

"We are almost there," said Aea in a soothing voice. "It hurts when we break down the scar tissue, but it will give you more movement in your thigh and feel better, I promise."

As the woman worked, her fingers massaging the deep tissue of Amdir's injured leg, Amdir regretted ever taking Aea up on her offer to help her address the stiffness in her thigh left over from the arrow wound. Elladan peered over Aea's shoulders, taking note of her technique and asking questions as the session progressed.

The party had travelled north but was still within the borders of Lothlorien. They had stopped for the mid-day meal, and now lingered at river's edge waiting for Seren and Rumil's party who were expected at any moment.

Meanwhile the morning had warmed into a bright although chilly day, and Amdir peered up into a light blue sky crisscrossed with thin white clouds. Beside them the Anduin ran steady and wide. They would cross at the main ford on the Old Forest Road, a welcome departure from horses swimming and rickety ferries that were barely river-worthy.

Aea gave Amdir's leg a last squeeze, then the elleth laid back in the grass, panting, relieved that it was finally over, and deciding that her first foray into human medicine would also be her last. "I thought you were going to help me, not introduce me to a new brand of torture."

Aea gave her a smile. "Sometimes before it gets better, it's got to get worse."

Amdir sat up and rubbed her leg, then she looked up to Aea with a grimace. "Sometimes before it gets worse it's got to get worse."

Aea laughed aloud, her full lips revealing white teeth, and her dark brown eyes danced. When she had removed her scarf, Amdir had seen that she too had shorn her hair and was in the midst of growing it back. It clung close to her scalp in tight black curls that Aea had braided into neat lines from her forehead to the base of her neck. With her high cheekbones and dark brown skin, Amdir thought she was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, although, she had to admit, she had only seen the few wine merchants that came to Mirkwood each year and their daughters. But still…

"Try to walk. It will hurt, but you will have more motion once the ache fades. Try."

Amdir nodded, and rose reluctantly, then walked around in a circle, slowly at first but speeding up as she gained more confidence. She smiled at Aea and Ealladan. "Yes, it is better. It aches, but the deeper pain has receded. Thank you."

Aea smiled and looked to Elladan who pressed his mouth together and moved his head up and down in positive assessment. "This is good," he said, "for injured elves and prisoners alike."

Aea frowned and Amdir had to jump in. "He jests, he's just jealous that he doesn't know how to heal like that."

Elladan clicked his tongue in mock hurt, then he turned to Aea, with a serious frown, although is eyes shone with mirth. "See how she turns on her healers? We are but commodities to her, there are no true friends in this cruel world."

Amdir rolled her eyes and the three of them dissolved into laughter. Amdir was still laughing when she returned to her horse to check her packs and find her shawl to wrap around her shoulders.

"What are you searching for?"

She looked up. Haldir was looking over at her as he adjusted the saddle on his own silver gelding.

"In life or at the moment?"

He acknowledged her joke with tilt of the head, although his mouth didn't actually break a smile. He was so tense.

"My shawl," she replied. "I thought I'd packed it here but…"

He unfolded a light travelling cloak from his own pack and walked over to her. "Use this."

Their eyes met and the memory of their conversation the night before flooded her mind. She looked down, and accepted the cloak with a small nod, her eyes flicking up to meet his only briefly.

Haldir's face softened but a measure. "Cheer up, Loboth, you will be used to my company again soon."

She looked up at him. She would never be used to this version of Haldir. She missed her friend, but the March Warden didn't seem to miss her at all. He started to walk away so she spoke up.

"Do you like riding with Aea?" she asked.

He looked confused at her question, then he shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it. It's fine, I suppose."

"Fine?"

His brow furrowed. "Fine. Why do you ask about Aea?"

Her cheeks flushed. "Oh, well, I just thought…I mean, you make a striking pair on the silver horse, she with her black braids and complexion and you with your…" she lost herself looking at him for a moment, till his eyebrow quirked, "your hair and eyes and everything… you make a striking pair."

"You said that already"

"Ah, so I did, well… thank you for the blanket errr cloak, it looks Lothlorien, very fine…fibers…" her voice faded away. "

"Fine fibers? So it has. Will it render her invisible if she wears it?" Elladan came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. If only she could render herself invisible right now. Still, she smiled at Elladan for saving her from further embarrassment.

"Any room in that sack of yours for these plates?" he asked. "My packs are so tight I couldn't fit a pebble more."

She took them out his hands and stuffed them into her sack, causing the horse to sidestep in protest. At that moment a horn sounded and the party looked up. Amdir grabbed Elladan's arm in fright but the elf grinned down at her. "Don't worry, coz, enemies don't tend to announce their arrival, it will be Rumil and Seren."

She immediately dropped his arm and tried to adopt of look of nonchalance. "I knew that."

"Of course you did."

The procession approached on horseback, fronted by Rumil and Seren, looking radiantly happy, her long brown hair braided around her head like a crown with wildflowers, and behind them rode six other guards, and Lord Celeborn's two assistant quarter masters, each leading a horse laden with supplies.

Haldir, Oropher and the twins stood up to greet them while Amdir and Aea stayed close to the horses.

"Mae Govannen Rumil!" said Elladan. "Mae Govannen Ser—"

The pretty brown-haired negotiator had already swung off her horse and was halfway to Amdir and Aea before Elladan could finish his greeting.

Seren stopped short when her eyes fell on Aea. "I cannot believe it," she said.

Aea smiled and stepped forward to grasp Seren's hands. "I had hoped to see you, dear friend."

Seren looked from one to the other, not sure of what to say, and finally embraced Aea while motioning for Amdir to join her.

When the greetings were over, congratulations over Seren's marriage complete, and the exclamations over Amdir's hair spent, the three retreated to the shade of a large willow that grew on the river bank and talked about Uldor, Lor and Sidu, and the events that led them up to today.

Meanwhile the ellyn prepared the horses, redistributed the packs, and, for the most part, left them alone to get reacquainted. Even Rumil, who frequently cast loving glances to Seren that the elleth never failed to return, kept his distance, opting to sit with the twins.

"I think it's wonderful that you cut your hair, I've not seen short hair on an elf…ever. It was the act of a proper Easterling wife and would make Uldor proud." Seren was saying.

Aea looked at Seren with interest. "That kind of hair is not common?"

She shook her head. "Not at all. For elf-kind, long hair is a mark of beauty."

"So what she is saying, Aea, is that I am no longer beautiful."

Seren leaned forward with a good natured laugh and pushed Amdir gently. "It has only made you more beautiful! Although you do look a bit human, do you not think so, Aea?"

Amdir frowned. "Haldir called me a rabbit."

Aea smiled and Seren laughed. "I think he's right," she said. "Something about the way your ears poke through your short hair."

Amdir rolled her eyes, then tucked her hair behind her ears. "Better?"

Seren nodded. "Nope, still like rabbit."

"Did you know that Uldor's name meant "ugly lord" in your language?" said Aea quite suddenly.

Amdir blinked. "I did not. He never mentioned this."

Aea leaned back on her hands and turned her face up to the sun, closing her eyes for a moment. "He probably didn't know," she said. "Uldor was always learning to fight while I had my head in the books."

"He did not live up to his name. I've never seen an elf who looked like him."

Seren raised her index finger. "I've heard of this before, 'ugly' in Rhun is more like 'terrible' or 'powerful' and has less to do with beauty, so a ruler can be both terrible and beautiful at the same time. His beauty was remarkable."

Amdir looked up to see Elladan approaching. "Please stop discussing my beauty, impressive though it is," he said. "After all, we need to get a start if we are to arrive in Mirkwood before the next age."

Amdir squinted up at Elladan. "What makes you think it was you we were discussing?"

"The word 'beauty', obviously."

She arched a brow. "Actually, we were discussing a lack of beauty."

"Ah, then you were discussing my brother. Now I understand."

Amdir and Seren laughed, and Aea smiled. While the woman could not be described as shy, Amdir noticed that she was reserved around the ellyn and more apt to study them then speak to them.

Perhaps she was simply wary from all they had been through. Seren, Amdir and Aea had forged a bond, yet in reality, Amdir didn't know much about Aea at all. Only that she had been close with her half-brother, and had mourned his loss quite keenly. And that she was a proficient healer; Amdir winced as she rubbed her leg again.

The woman had travelled directly ahead of Amdir that morning, sharing Haldir's great silver destrier. No wonder she had just acted the fool with Haldir; she didn't relish having the two in plain sight the entire time; it merely served to remind her that it should be her riding behind Haldir, not the human. Not that Aea gave any sign of enjoying it. The woman kept her back rigid and Amdir didn't see the two exchange conversation outside of what was necessary.

If it had been her, she would have covered Haldir's back like a wet cloak. She imagined wrapping her arms around his torso, but the thought was quickly chased with a pang of guilt. The future queen of Rhun would never forget her husband so quickly. But then, Uldor had never actually been her husband, and she would never be the queen of Rhun...

She turned to study Aea. The woman still had her eyes closed. Beneath her full bottom lip began a series of tattoos that cast delicate designs down her throat and curled over her collar bone. Some of the designs she recognized; symbols of their house.

Her cheekbones were high like Uldor's although softer, where Uldor's had been razor sharp. Her eyes were the same almond shape, but much darker than Uldor's dark green. How she missed his eyes upon her. The ache in her stomach never went away, it simply faded into the background for a few hours when she was busy, but would return to her each time her mind had the opportunity to rest. The only time she really didn't think about him was when she was with Haldir.

She turned to watch the tall warrior elf as he worked. By the Valar, he was beautiful. He shone like a golden warrior in the sun as he knelt down to take stock of a large bag of supplies, shifting his long blonde hair to his other shoulder, and looking up to ask a question of one of the twins.

She felt Haldir's loss in her belly, right down there with Uldor's loss, in the empty space that had, for a brief time held Haldir's child.

Aea leaned forward and patted her arm. "I miss him too, Amdir. We all do."

Amdir could not meet her eye. She merely nodded and rose to return to her horse, passing closer to Haldir than she needed to. But the march warden was engrossed in his tasks and, if he noticed her at all, he gave no signal, and didn't acknowledge her.

She patted the mare's neck and pressed her face into the animal's mane, smelling that comforting horsey scent that reminded her of afternoons spent in King Thranduil's stables, grooming the King's favourite mounts. "You will like the stables," she told the mare.

But she did not linger for long; around her the energy was building as the other elves returned to their horses. Amdir gave Lus a pat, then swung up in her saddle and settled in, narrowing her eyes just a measure as she watched Aea swing up behind Haldir.

Ahead of them Oropher led the party and, on his signal, the horses began to move. Amdir looked behind her at Seren and felt that familiar thrill of excitement to be travelling again. But this time, she was going home. 


	26. Listen to Hear

The road north to Mirkwood was a two week journey on horseback along the edge of the Anduin to reach the Old Ford where they could safely cross (a fact that Amdir appreciated) and enter the forest.

Once in Mirkwood, they would head north again to Rhosobel, then on to the Enchanted River and Thranduil's Halls through a secret path known only to elves.

They were a large party to begin with, and the Lorien guards swelled their ranks to almost 20, yet they travelled light and they travelled quick.

The moment they passed over Lothlorien's northern march, the mood of the party shifted from happy reunions to a grimmer awareness of the danger they faced. Aea's news meant that they lit no fires at night, and Haldir's desire to move swiftly left little room for pleasure.

Billowy silk flags, traditionally part of the honour guard, were traded for sensible green tunics and sharp silver swords. Hair was braided and tucked back, and 20 sets of eyes studied the riverbank to the right and the rising mountains to the left keenly as they rode. Talk was kept to a minimum as each elf fell into line, pushing their horses to the brink of exhaustion each day for 13 days.

Amdir didn't question Haldir's decision to swap comfort for time. In fact, nobody questioned him as he replaced Orophin at the head of the small group. Haldir was a natural leader that other elves gravitated towards, and she had watched him carefully since they left Lothlorien, seeing how he interacted quietly but firmly with the other warriors, and noting his self-discipline as he made time to train every night, even if it was only for an hour.

Haldir did not return her interest and it was clear his mind was focused on their journey. I am in danger of stalking him, she thought to herself as, even now, she watched as he rode ahead of her through the narrow strip of land between the mountains and the river with a grim face, constantly staring across the river and into the distant treeline searching for movement, for sudden clouds of moving birds, or for anything that could signal a pending orc attack.

To Amdir's chagrin, Haldir continued to keep Aea close, and the woman shared his horse more often than not.

Amdir could not understand it; particularly when there were well-trained pack horses Aea could ride. Elves always travelled with extra mounts in case a horse went lame. While Haldir's destrier was strong, why give it the extra burden of the woman? Unless of course, Haldir enjoyed Aea behind him, her breasts pressing against the March Warden's back, her arms laced around his waist…

Aea turned her head back and met Amdir's eye and Amdir immediately looked away, then returned to Aea's questioning face with a smile that Aea returned.

She rode alongside Elladan. Behind her rode Seren and Rumil, then a number of soldiers whose names she was only now learning, and at the rear rode Elrohir and Orophin. When Haldir requested it, Elladan and Orophin scouted ahead, but they always returned with good news: The way was clear, for now.

If Uldor was alive, he would ride alongside Amdir, probably behind Seren and Rumil. But of course, if Uldor was alive, they'd be living safe in the embrace of Fangorn's tall woven trees. She'd be safe in the embrace of Uldor's strong battle-scarred arms. She shook her head to dispel the thought. No point in weighing down her already heavy heart. She glanced at Elladan, as he rode at a quick clip beside her.

The sun was to the west, quite low in the sky, almost behind the mountains and beginning to glow peach. It gilded Elladan's dark brown braids with gold.

He glanced back at her, a small smile upon his lips. Nothing ever got this son of Elrond down. He loved adventure, he loved danger, he loved life, and she had recently begun to understand that he loved her. Not as a lover, perhaps, but a truer brother never existed.

When they returned from Erebor, she would remain in Rivendell with the twins. There she would continue grieving Uldor, and there she would work hard to forget the other loss who currently rode ahead of her, a beautiful dark-haired warrior woman pressed against him.

When they finally stopped to make camp, she climbed off her mount with shaky legs.

Elladan laughed. "You look like a beginner."

She shook her head as she loosened the straps of the saddle. He closed the distance to help her lift it off the horse's back and she smiled at him with gratitude.

"I feel like a beginner. He rides us hard," she pointed her chin towards Haldir who was lifting the saddle off his own horse, Aea stood behind him watching.

Elladan shrugged. "We know there are orcs coming. He does what any responsible leader would do."

"I don't mean to question him," she said quickly. "Only my ability to keep up with him."

Elladan smiled, and together they led their horses to drink from a small stream of cold silver water that ran towards the river. There they were joined by Seren, who leaned down to splash water on her face.

"I am so tired I could sleep a year," she said as she rose.

Elladan took the reins of Amdir's horse and led the two horses away. With a grin, Amdir took Seren's arm and led her up the small bank to where the elves where unfurling their bedrolls and opening their food packs.

"If you slept a year, you would have an elfling in your arms when you awoke," said Amdir.

Seren smiled. "I still can't believe that Rumil let me come. 'One last adventure before the baby comes', he said. Although I worry that he is contemplating leaving me at Thranduil's palace if it gets any more dangerous."

"You are Lord Celeborn's negotiator. They can't leave you behind. Are you worried?"

She ran her hand over her still flat belly. "No, not really. I feel safe around these warriors. And besides, haven't you and I had our own adventures? As long as I'm with you, what could happen?"

Amdir rolled her eyes and laughed, pulling Seren closer to her as they walked. "When I think of you and I travelling solo… We were brave, weren't we?"

"We still are!"

"Seren, perhaps it should be you leading the party, Aea riding behind you," said Amdir. Her voice was more caustic than she'd intended and Seren's brow rose.

"Amdir, do you think Haldir has an interest in Aea?"

"No, of course not, but…"

Seren's brow rose higher.

"But there are many spare horses not to mention Aea's own horse. I don't see why she can't ride one of those unless Haldir doesn't want her to."

Seren gave her a long look. "You really care for him, don't you?"

Amdir opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out.

"It's obvious," Seren helped out.

Amdir sighed. "Is it? Has it always been?"

The pretty negotiator nodded, and Amdir frowned. "Do you think it's possible to love two people at one time? I mean, I cared for Uldor very much, in fact, I loved him, Seren. I was happy with him and he made me feel safe and protected, and sometimes I think I will never get past his death. The only time I feel peace is when…when…"

"When you are with Haldir."

Amdir closed her eyes. "That shows too."

Seren nodded again and placed her hand over Amdir's. "I know you have been through a lot, but you are young, yet. Perhaps there could be a chance for you and Haldir."

Amdir knelt down and spread out her bedroll on the grass, far enough away from the others that their conversation wouldn't be overheard. Seren followed suit and the two sat down with relief.

Amdir handed Seren a wine skin and Seren looked at it with a tilted head. "I really shouldn't, in my condition, but I'm really going to. And you are not off the hook in answering my question about Haldir. Is there a chance?"

Amdir unfolder her legs in front of her and leaned back on her hands. "No. He says he could never love me now that I've loved Uldor. That that ship has sailed. He will never marry me. He doesn't want me. He feels I betrayed him and he doesn't trust me at all, and now I am quite sure he cares for Aea and who could blame him? I have ruined it, I broke his heart and now my own shall never mend."

When Amdir looked up she was met with Seren's astonished eyes and open mouth. "Did he really say this to you? That does not sound like Haldir at all. What on earth happened between the two of you?"

Amdir looked glum. "No, he didn't exactly say that, but I know it nonetheless. Oh Seren, I have treated him cruelly. If you knew the truth, you would side with him, I know it."

Seren sat up. "Side with him? Amdir, love is not about being right or wrong, sometimes when we are ruled by our hearts, we make foolish mistakes, but those who love us forgive us, for they too are ruled by their foolish hearts."

Amdir held Seren's gaze. "He will never forgive me."

Seren's brow beetled in sympathy and she leaned forward. "Tell me everything."

By the time Amdir was done, Seren's eyes were wet, and she held the young elleth's hands. Miraculously, the others had given the two space to speak uninterrupted, until someone cleared his throat behind him. Both looked up to see Haldir standing next to Aea. The woman's face was sullen.

"Aea needs to go past those trees. I wondered if one of you could accompany her?"

Amdir and Seren stood abruptly, and rather than looking at Haldir, Amdir kept her eyes on the ground. When she finally looked up at him, he stared at her with a puzzled expression on his face.

Seren stepped forward. "I will accompany her, Haldir."

Amdir found her voice. "No, let me. You are tired and need to rest, and I could use the walk and welcome the chance to speak with Aea."

Seren stepped back with relief and Aea offered Amdir a strained smile. Amdir took the woman's hand and glanced at Haldir. "You may leave us, Haldir, I will keep Aea safe."

He nodded and glanced at the bedrolls. "Please move your bedding closer to the group before it gets fully dark. It is not safe for you two to be on the outskirts of our protection, and I know that Rumil worries for you, Seren."

"And who worries for Amdir, I wonder?" quipped Seren, and Amdir's cheeks flamed. Three pretty faces turned to study Haldir, who pressed his lips into a thin line and quickly turned on his heel to rejoin the larger party.

"Seren," began Amdir, intending to admonish her friend, but Aea interrupted. "Amdir, take me past those trees. I can't wait much longer."

Seren mouthed "I'm sorry," and Amdir rolled her eyes with a smile as she quickly led Aea towards the treeline.

"Your march warden does not trust me," said Aea in Rhun, as soon as they were out of earshot. "For almost a week he has barely let me speak to anyone. It is a miracle he doesn't follow me into the woods when I must make water."

Amdir mentally noted the Rhun words for 'make water'. Ahead of them was a collection of large boulders surrounded with small shrubs beginning to flower. Both were large enough for the woman to disappear behind. Amdir respectfully turned her back.

"I don't think it's a matter of trust, Aea. I can see that he takes a keen interest in you, but I think he wishes to keep you close for another reason."

Aea reappeared looking much more relaxed and adjusting her headscarf as she walked. She snorted at Amdir's comment. "You suggest an affection? What kind of affection does it speak to when he strips me of my weapon and refuses to give me my own horse? Think what you wish, Amdir, but I am a prisoner. Had I known this would be my welcome, I would never have come!"

Amdir switched to Sindarin. "But Aea, you came to warn us. Surely you do not regret that?"

Aea sighed. "Of course not. You, Seren and I went through much together, and we are like sisters now because of it. I do not regret protecting you, but that man – elf – is so arrogant and stubborn. He forgets that I am the Chief of the Men of the Brown now. I do not deserve to be a prisoner."

"Assuming you  _are_  a prisoner, which I don't believe is the case."

Aea looked at Amdir like a parent would look at a wayward child. "There is really no guile in you, is there? You believe in the best in everyone."

She frowned. Thranduil had always said that her honesty was her best quality, but she was not a child, not anymore, and she would prefer to earn the woman's respect, not be patronized by her. In truth, Amdir wished she could be more like Aea; a stout hearted healer, a fighter, now a leader of men. And beautiful. Even when she complained in her softly accented Rhun, she had an inner strength that Amdir knew others found attractive. If anyone should be queen of Rhun, it should be this woman.

"He would not hold you prisoner, he would not dare. You are just like your brother. How could Haldir not be attracted to you? In truth, I am jealous."

Aea blinked with surprise at her words. "Why jealous?"

"Because I wish I were more like you."

Aea's black lined eyes crinkled at the sides in a genuine smile, and her face softened. "I'm sorry I said that, Amdir, I am tired and frustrated at my lack of freedom. Do not listen to me."

Amdir smiled back although her heart felt heavy. "It is forgotten. Wait for me while I 'make water' (she said in Rhun) too, before we return to the camp."

Aea nodded and Amdir disappeared behind the rock. As she fiddled with her leggings, something in the shrub brushed her cheek and she swatted it away. When it brushed her cheek a second time, she turned her head and there, tied to the bush was a small swath of material from Aea's scarf. She carefully undid the knot and hid the material in the pocket of her tunic, then took a deep breath and collected herself before returning to Aea with something she hoped approximated a bright smile. Aea studied her longer than usual, but she said nothing and walked alongside Amdir back to the camp.

An hour later the sun had sunk behind the mountains and the crickets were beginning to chirp. Amdir sat on a bedroll between Elladan and Elrohir eating hard cheese and listening to Seren tell a story of a great Lothlorien battle.

On the other side of the circle of bedrolls, sat Aea between Orophin and Rumil, and on the bedroll where Haldir had been sitting up until a few minutes ago, now lounged a Lorien guard named Celebir. Amdir looked around and saw a glimmer of moonlight on silver hair as Haldir walked alone into the trees behind their camp.

The night air had grown chilly and Amdir rose, one hand in her pocket, her fingers rubbing the length of material Aea had tied to the tree, and told her companions she had to see an elf about a horse, then took off in Haldir's direction.

The moon was in its darkest phase and it was hard to see more than a few feet in front of her, let alone track where the March Warden had gone. Not that she wanted to catch him in the midst of…well… that would be awkward. Her goal was to catch him right before he emerged from the trees.

She intentionally rattled some branches as she walked and cleared her throat a few times, just in case. Then she picked up a dry branch from the forest floor and wacked it against a tree trunk with a 'thunk'.

"What in Mandos' Halls are you doing?"

She turned around. "Ah, you found me."

"I'm sure that every living creature within five miles could find you with the racquet you were making. Is there a particular reason you've decided to advertise our presence here to all of Middle-earth, or were you simply out for a stroll?"

She ignored his sarcasm. "I need to talk to you. Aea thinks she is your prisoner. Is this true?"

Haldir moved his face closer to Amdir. "What did she say?" he asked quietly.

She could smell the wine on his breath. She wondered if she were to kiss him, if she would taste it on his tongue. "She said that she is frustrated you won't give her back her own horse. That you watch her constantly, and that you are arrogant and stubborn."

He exhaled a wry laugh. "Well, she probably has that last part correct."

"And the first part?"

Haldir tilted his head to look at Amdir. Shadows fell across the broad plains of his face, but she could still make out his full lips and arched brows.

"Amdir, she showed up uninvited, with knowledge of a meeting she should never have been made aware of, and warning us of orcs. Prior to our failed treaty with Rhun, and despite the good deeds of the Men of the Brown, the Easterlings have ever been our enemies. If you are here to ask me to release her, then—"

"No, Haldir," she put her hand on his arm. "I'm here because I found this." She pulled out the material and handed it to him. "She had tied it to a shrub and I found it."

He held it up thoughtfully. "Did she see you?"

"I don't think so. Is she on our side?"

"I don't know. Please don't mention this to anyone."

"But are we in danger? The others should know."

Haldir exhaled a concerned breath. "It would serve no purpose but to create anxiety. We are already taking every precaution – there is nothing more we can do that we are not already doing. There is no point in adding worry to mix. You will say nothing?"

"I will say nothing,"

They stood still for a heartbeat until she remembered that she was still holding his arm. She dropped it with an embarrassed breath. "Forgive me," she said and stepped back.

"Nothing to forgive."

"You should go out first."

"I don't want you in the forest alone. You can go first. I will wait here."

She took a deep breath. When had things grown so awkward between them? Still, she did not want to leave him. Better to spend agonized awkward moments with him, than none at all. Reluctantly she turned away from him and began to walk towards the camp. What is that Seren had said?  _Those who love us, forgive us, for they too are ruled by their foolish hearts._

She took all of four steps before she reared back around, then closed the distance between them.

"What is it?" he asked, concern in his voice.

She could see the outline of his cheekbones framed with silver braids and reached up to touch his face.

"Haldir, this is silly. It is not Aea that should be riding with you, it is me. I know I hurt you, but it was not because I stopped caring! We should be together, like Rumil and Seren. Like we were before, and me with your baby in my belly. Haldir, we are elves and we bonded. We do not change so quickly. Surely you still love me? Let's end this pretence and give in to what I believe we both still want!"

She held her breath, till strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her hand away and placed it back at her side. Her heart sank. He did not let go of her wrist, but he did not step closer, even when she lowered her head, almost touching his chest with her crown. She felt a soft touch on her scalp and looked up at him.

"Is it the hair?"

He sighed, and his shoulders dropped a measure. He placed his hands gently on either side of her face, his thumbs touching the soft hair around her temples.

"I like the hair, rabbit, but it's why you cut it. You loved  _him_ , even with my baby in your belly, and I cannot get past that."

She placed her hands over his so that he could not remove them. The heat of them radiated down her neck and through her entire body, and her heart sped up. Had she ever felt his with Uldor? She didn't think so; yet it had always been this way with Haldir. "Please Haldir, he is gone and we are still here. I know I am young and have few years compared to you, but I have loved you for every one of them. My entire life I have dreamt of you. Please do not punish me for what happened. I didn't mean to love him, and I didn't know about the baby. I didn't bond with him, and now he is gone. You were my first, Haldir, there have been none since you. How can I walk away from you?"

He pulled his hands back and she felt their loss acutely. "We have been over this before. Nothing has changed. Please do not be upset, you only make it harder for yourself. Aea is right about my suspicions, but even if that were not the case, I would ride alone. I would not ride with you."

He paused, and she took the time to collect herself.

"Please do not speak about what I have told you tonight," he continued, as though her declaration had not happened. "Be wary, and act normal. There is nothing more to say, so please return to camp."

"Haldir…"

"Please return to camp," he repeated more sternly, although his voice broke on the last word, and hope surged in her heart.

"No, I will not. I will stay here until…"

"Until what? I pick you up and carry you back to camp?" His voice had a slight growl to it that made her belly flip flop. Her heart beat more quickly.

"Maybe," she turned to face him and brazenly ran her hands down his arms, feeling his biceps, inhaling his scent of leather and grass, now mixed with red wine.

"We should be together," she whispered, more to herself than to him, and when her hands reached his wrist, she could feel the blood pulsing through his veins quickly, and she knew she was affecting him.

"What are you doing?" he whispered hoarsely.

Her hands moved inwards, and she placed them on his chest where she could feel his heart beating, then ran them down his torso. His breath caught, but he stood still and she stepped closer, allowing her breasts to press up against him, angling her hands under his shirt to caress the smooth muscles of his back down to his narrow hips.

"You said you would pick me up and carry me away if I continued. I want to see if you meant it." Her fingers played along the waistband of his leggings then dipped underneath. He stood rigid, his breathing was rapid and shallow, but still he allowed her to continue.

Despite her desire to take control, her own breath was ragged and her blood rushed between her legs creating delicious pressure. It was all she could do to not rub against him, but she was still unsure of his reaction.

Light reflected off his eyes as he stared down at her and she pressed against him harder, then she reached down the front of his leggings and wrapped her hands around the length of him. He gasped, and she didn't need to coax him for he was already rock hard. Finally, he stayed her hand. "Amdir," he said in a strangled voice. "You should not be doing this."

She kissed the hollow of his neck and let her lips linger, her tongue softly licking him, while she simultaneously tightened her grip on his member, her other hand squeezing his buttock. He licked his lips and she could feel him grow slick beneath her fingers, then his head bowed down till his lips were in her hair, one hand pulling her into him, the other running up and down her back. "Amdir," he growled.

"You said you would pick me up and carry me…"

Without a moment's hesitation, he leaned over and picked her up as though she weighed nothing, then he carried to the edge of the treeline and deposited her in an ungraceful heap upon the grass. She looked up at him wide eyed and open mouthed, a picture of shocked indignation.

"Next time,  _hear me_ ," he said, then he adjusted his leggings and strode off towards to the camp.

"I hate you!" she yelled after him, but he continued walking. She willed him to turn around, but before long he was mostly out of sight. With a humiliated sigh she laid back and stared up to the stars. "Eru Iluvatar, if you are listening, please open the earth and swallow me now, for I can never face him again."


	27. Bridge Across the Anduin

The cadence of her mare's hooves as they thudded on the hardened track of ground beneath her sounded like fool-ish, fool-ish, fool-ish, and when her horse sped into a gallop, it sounded like 'idiot, idiot, idiot'.

The day after Amdir's humiliating run in with Haldir, she talked Elladan into riding with her behind Seren and Rumil. Seren took one look at Amdir's face and made the swap, and Haldir, to his credit, didn't say a word.

If it wasn't always easy to stare ahead and see Rumil and Seren exchanging blissful smiles, or to watch Rumil gently help his wife off her mount as though she were made of glass, it was still better than having to watch Haldir's broad shoulders and erect back and he pushed his mount forward at the head of the column of riders.

She did note with interest that Aea rode with Celebir, in the middle of the procession, and couldn't help but wonder why Haldir chose to ride alone.

She felt, quite keenly, that she had gambled and lost.

Trying to seduce Haldir had been a desperate move. A childish act. What did she know of the ways of love making? She had bonded all of one time, whereas the March Warden was much older, much wiser, and no doubt much more experienced.

It didn't escape her attention that she has also failed to arouse Uldor's desires too. She glanced down at her hands now wrapped loosely around thin leather reins. They were slender hands, perhaps a bit pale (especially compared to the beautiful Aea), but Amdir thought them pretty. True, she was not the great beauty that Seren was or Queen Isobel, but she was attractive in her own way and had, in the past, inspired the lingering glance of many an elf. She quietly sighed; clearly she was missing something in the way of love.

The only comfort she could find on this day was the idea that, shortly, she would be home. Home meant time with the King and Queen, and their newly born babies she had yet to meet. She longed to talk to Queen Isobel, but wondered if the raven-haired wife of Thranduil would have time for Amdir, now that she had new responsibilities.

And from that thought on, she was torn.

Haldir had encouraged her to stay in the Greenwood with her kin, rather than travel on to Erebor. He had made it clear his motivation was to be rid of her, but the idea was still an attractive one. She was exhausted. Her body ached. Her heart ached. Her mind had grown thin with the hardships of the last 18 months and she longed for the chance to rest and gain some perspective. Her old bed. Her old friends. Safety.

But she also longed to return to Rivendell and continue her work with Lords Elrond and Erestor. It was they who had entrusted her with this mission, and she could not let them down if she wanted to stay on with them.

Both Ellandan and Elrohir had assured her that their father would understand should she forgo Erebor to spend a few weeks at home, but Amdir felt that she needed to prove her worth and loyalty to the elves of Imladris who had welcomed her so fully. Still, the thought of home…

Despite her mood, the day was bright. Above her the sky was a sharp cloudless blue, and the sun would have felt hot but for a refreshing breeze that blew down from the mountains in the west and still smelled of snow.

They were less than an hour away from the bridge that crossed the great river, and the narrow grassland was ablaze with wildflowers. Blue forget-me-nots, white daisies and bright yellow dandelions covered the riverbanks and the narrow grassland like a blanket.

In the sunniest spots she spotted prickly green weeds that she knew would blossom into large lazy poppies with velvety red petals. She imagined that the forest floor near the King's halls were covered in white trilliums and speckled brown trout lilies, and the forest streams would be running cold and deep.

Her attention snapped back to her horse who had suddenly slowed its pace. She raised her head and saw that, far in front of the party, a rider approached. She instantly recognized Elrohir returning from a scout, but behind him rode four more soldiers.

The elves all drew their swords and knocked their arrows but, as the riders neared, Amdir saw their dress and smiled for the first time that day. They were part of Thranduil's guard, likely sent to greet them. Home!

She trotted up past Rumil and Seren and pulled in just behind Haldir. He turned his head to look at her, and she couldn't help but smile, but his face remained unreadable and he turned back around, then rode up to meet the approaching soldiers.

In an instant, Rumil and Orophin were at Haldir's side, and Elladan quickly rode up to meet his brother.

"Who are they?" asked Seren, who had walked her horse forward to stand abreast with Amdir.

Amdir leaned towards Seren and kept her voice low, pointing with her chin. "The silver haired one is Prince Legolas, and to his right, Tauriel. They always patrol together. The one speaking to Haldir, that's…oh…I forget his name – Gwalin – and the smaller one is new. I don't know her."

The negotiator watched with keen interest. "I have met Legolas once before when his father was injured and treated in Lothlorien, but I doubt he will remember me. He is very handsome."

Amdir's mouth twitched. She looked at Legolas like a big cousin, but even she knew he was as good looking as his father, albeit more gentle in nature. At that moment the prince looked up and, seeing Amdir, waved in greeting.

He and Elladan rode over to where the two ellyth watched. As he neared, he leapt off his mount and jogged over to her. She climbed down, not sure how to greet him after so long, but he offered her a smile and a warm embrace. He smelled like Mirkwood, like home, and the relief was so great that Amdir started to cry.

"I am not sure if she cries because she missed me or because now she has to see me again," he quipped, to which Amdir laughed between her tears.

As Amdir collected herself she noticed Legolas' eye had fallen on Aea, who still shared Celebir's mount. He raised an eyebrow. "Who is that?"

"She is an Easterling. Uldor's half-sister. I'm sure Haldir will explain, but first, may I present Lord Celeborn's lead negotiator, Seren? I believe you met during your last stay in Lothlorien."

"Now my wife," piped up Rumil, to which Legolas beamed up to Seren who was only now dismounting.

"I remember. You showed me and my father great kindness when we last visited your realm. My father and I were both pleased to hear of your marriage."

Seren's eyes grew wide at the mention of Thranduil, and Rumil laughed as Legolas placed a friendly hand on the guard's shoulder.

Seren curtseyed. "I am honoured that you would remember me. My kin still speak fondly of your and your gracious father's visit, and we wish that you would come again soon."

Legolas smiled. "Negotiator indeed." He turned a merry eye to Rumil, who could not but suppress his pride. "My father prefers not to travel, but I would welcome a visit to Lothlorien's gardens. Perhaps you and your lovely wife might host me a day or two?"

"It would be my hon—"

"Legolas, a word, if you would." Haldir stood alongside Elrohir, Elladan, Orophin and the other Mirkwood elves watching the reunion.

Legolas turned back to Amdir. "My father sent us to greet you, but I would have come anyways. We will escort you to Rhosgobel then north along the elven path."

Amdir reached out to brush an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder and filled her lungs with a deep and happy breath. "It is so good to see you."

Legolas took her hand and squeezed it, then turned to join the other guards who had walked away from the column of horses and were gathering in a huddle for what, despite all the goodwill and friendship between them, appeared to be a tense conversation.

The others dismounted and took the opportunity to let their horses rest and drink. Even Aea took a seat under a willow tree near the riverbank. She had covered her face with the arrival of the Mirkwood guards, but her sharp eyes watched the activity around her with interest. Now and again, her eyes flicked to the treeline on the other side of the river.

Amdir felt a measure of sympathy for Aea. Surely she meant no harm, thus no harm would come to her. When they arrived at Thranduil's Halls, Amdir herself would plead Aea's case and ensure the woman's freedom to return to her men.

The two ellith turned their faces to study the huddle of elves, now deep in conversation.

"It is not good," said Seren quietly to Amdir. "Look at Rumil's face. He's worried, and now he looks across the river, searching. And see, Prince Legolas, I may not know him well, but his posture is tense, see how his jaw has a slight pulse? They have received news, and it doesn't bode well. Ah, Orophin steps back – he doesn't agree with my husband."

"You are good at reading them."

Seren glanced at her. "I am a negotiator, it is my training."

They watched as Haldir led Legolas a few paces away, their heads bent together in conversation. Then Legolas nodded and jogged over to give Tauriel an order. She immediately broke away from the group and mounted her horse, taking off like a bolt of red lightning heading north to the bridge. It only took a few minutes before she was out of sight.

Amdir cocked her head. "Tauriel is our fastest rider, she races to warn the Palace, or to fetch backup."

Seren blinked with alarm and took Amdir's arm.

"We are brave," said Amdir.

"Yes, we are brave," Seren replied. "Besides, how could orcs ever know where to find us?"

The image of a strip of black cloth hanging from a shrub filled Amdir's mind.

"Amdir!" said Seren. "You are white as a sheet!"

Amdir dropped Seren's arm. "I must speak to Haldir," she said quickly and took off towards the march warden, leaving the negotiator open-mouthed behind her.

The huddle had broken up, and Haldir was walking towards the center of the column of horses. He paused when he heard her yell his name.

"Not now, Amdir," he said, dismissing her.

But she persisted. "Haldir, I know how they know!" she said in a loud whisper.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

She tried again. "Seren said it wasn't good news. It's orcs, yes? They have been spotted."

"Amdir, you must listen..."

"I know how they found us. It was—"

He looked around in alarm then stepped forward and tilted his head towards hers, his voice low. "I know. I have known this for days. Elrohir has been lagging behind to find the ties, but in truth, the orcs do not need them. Our trail is obvious enough."

"But why would she do this? She is Uldor's sister."

Haldir exhaled and looked around him tensely. Amdir could see he needed to be elsewhere, with each passing moment, the danger grew. Still she held his gaze, imploring him to answer.

"The lords of Rhun who had Uldor killed plan to overthrow King Ulwarth. They have promised to make her queen if the Easterlings will fight for Mordor. She demonstrates her loyalty by leading the orcs to us and stopping the Erebor meeting."

"So they are coming."

"Yes."

An image of her father with blood running down his chin and streaming from his neck clouded her vision. The orcs had killed him and taken her mother. She had hid under the water of the sacred pools, breathing through a hollow reed until they were gone. A young elfling of only 14 years, she had wandered the forest for 12 days, surviving off beech nuts and rain water before she had been found, against all odds, by Haldir. She also remembered the feel of steel against her throat when the orcs had attacked them as they arrived in the Brown Lands...

"Amdir."

She looked up into piercing blue eyes.

"Whatever you are thinking of, stop now. I need you calm and focused; there is no room for fear. Do you understand? No room."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, yes I understand. No room for fear."

How she missed Uldor! Uldor would know to embrace her and reassure her, but Haldir looked over her head to the others, anxious to be off. Still, he hesitated. "Do what I tell you, Rabbit. I promised to protect you and no matter what has happened, I keep my promises. When they come, you focus and do as I say."

She pushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "What will you do with her? You cannot hurt her."

Haldir's eyes grew wide. "She would gladly sacrifice you and Seren and everyone in this party."

"She is Uldor's sister..."

His eyes darkened. "She is a spy, and a traitor, and it is not your decision."

She took a step back. He was right, and she was wasting his time. "Please, just…don't hurt her."

"You spent too much time with that man. You forget we are elves and our ways are different. I will treat her as I treat any other prisoner, and I do not have time to debate this with you. Return to Seren. NOW."

She bristled at being ordered, but he was the leader of their party and she had little choice.

He didn't spare her another glance as he jogged towards the Lothlorien soldiers to brief them on the situation.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the column rode steadily towards the bridge. The soldiers kept their swords drawn, silver blades glinting in the sunshine, and their bows raised. Seren and Amdir rode in the centre, alongside Celebir and Aea. Haldir was not taking chances with the woman.

As they approached the bridge, the forest crowded towards the river, perfect for all manner of ambush. Amdir could plainly see that, once they entered the bridge, they were vulnerable to attack on either side, potentially dividing their small force, and as they crossed the long bridge they were, essentially, easy prey for orc arrows.

Amdir drew the dagger that she kept at her waist as did Seren. Only Aea was without a weapon. The group was silent and the only sound around them was the constant swirling noise of the river as it flowed south and the chirping of birdsong. Until even the birdsong fell silent.

The column paused, horses standing nervously, their ears flat against their heads, and every set of eyes strained to see through the trees. A small knot of sparrows ascended into the sky from just behind the verge of woodland where they stood, and on the east bank, a sedge of heron fishing in the shallows lifted their great beaks with curiosity.

Haldir left the front of the column and rode out to face the forest, his brothers at his side, while Legolas stepped in front of the remaining horses.

"GO! QUICKLY!" The Prince urged, and the horses began to cross just as a line of orcs emerged from the dark green canopy.

Amdir heard the clash of steel behind her but bowed low in her saddle and followed the prince and sons of Elrond in a hasty gallop across the narrow bridge of wood and stone.

As they neared the other side, her eyes widened when she saw a second line of orcs now emerging in front of them. She glanced behind her and all was chaos. A few horses lay dead at the entrance to the bridge while the outnumbered elves fought valiantly, felling orcs. She saw one elf fall and she quickly turned back around.

Ahead of her Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir thrust and parried with orc soldiers. The sound of grunts was drowned out by the panicked whinny of horses. Experienced mounts, well-blooded in battle, gave the elves an advantage only until the orcs cut the legs of the horses themselves.

"Go Right, My Lady!"

Amdir sidestepped to allow another warrior through – Celebir. He charged with his sword drawn to help the others.

An orc ran up to her and grabbed her leg, leering at her with black teeth. She slashed at him with her dagger, but he succeeded in pulling her half off her mare, until the horse reared back in alarm, her hooves trampling the orc into a bloody pulp.

Behind her another tried to grab her reins but a whistling arrow lodged in the orc's neck, ripping open his artery and releasing a spurt of blood that sprayed Amdir's face. She wiped her eyes and, looking back, saw four more elves galloping across the bridge as Legolas dropped his dual blades long enough to release a series of arrows, picking off the orcs left on the other side of the river.

Amdir searched in alarm for Seren, and saw with a sickened heart the negotiator struggling on the ground against an orc who held her by her hair. Amdir kicked the mare's flanks and raced forward to help but a lithe dark hand reached out and grabbed her reins, then swung up behind her and pushed her off her mount.

"Aea! What are you—"

She fell to the ground with a thud, banging her temple on a rock. She blinked and when she looked up she saw two Aeas atop two horses racing towards two orcs…she shook her head and the two visions merged back into one.

Suddenly a line of nimble dark-haired archers emerged from the treeline and arrows whistled over her head. She ducked low and her arms were seized from behind. She flung around and struggled, but the arms tightened, and she looked down to see green vambraces embroidered with golden thread across her chest. "Stay with me!" the elven guard commanded, and she stilled, allowing him to lead her to the edge of the battle, before the Mirkwood guard jumped back into the fray.

With the arrival of reinforcements, it only took a few minutes for the remaining orcs to fall either to arrow or sword, and Amdir watched with horror as the guards slit the throats of those orcs who had merely been injured.

She began to count. There stood Elladan and Elrohir, one, two, and Rumil, three.

Orophin knelt beside a downed Lothlorien elf, four and five, then Celebir who stood wiping black blood from his sword, six. To her great relief, she saw Seren, still laying in the grass, but slowly sitting up, seven.

Across the bridge where the attack had begun, she saw three more Galadhrim, eight, nine, ten, bending over three more who had been injured, eleven, twelve, thirteen.

And near her stood Aea, an arrow had brushed her leg but otherwise she appeared uninjured, being held tightly by Gwalin. Aea brought her count to fourteen, but they had numbered twenty before the arrival of the Mirkwood elves. She walked to the centre of the orc bodies. Surely they didn't lose six on the other side?

Her heart began to pound. By the Valar, please don't let him be dead. Please don't let him…

She began to search frantically, but he had not made it to this side of the bridge. In front of her, her mare lay in the grass, a leg broken, an arrow in her flank and one in her belly. But she could not tend to her now, she must find Haldir.

Heart racing, she began to jog back across the bridge, the wooden slats now slick with the blood of both orcs and elves. She stepped over one orc body and another that was not quite dead and reached up to grab her leg. She reared back with revulsion, then kicked him and hopped over him. He could not hurt her now.

She could see elves laying in the grass. 15, 16, 17, 18, 19… She saw a silver braid shining in the sun and began to run. She slipped on the blood once, but instantly righted herself and continued, off the bridge, over the grass and near the trees, and there he lay, utterly still. The three elves standing saw her and stood back. She dropped to her knees beside him.

"Is he?  _IS HE?"_  She placed a hand on his forehead and the other on his chest. She could feel a faint heartbeat.

"He is injured, gravely so."

An orc arrow had pierced his shoulder and another his side. A large gash lined his thigh almost from knee to groin, and face was grey, his eyelids fluttering.

"Bring him to Aea," she commanded.

"Do not let him near that woman!" a voice behind her countered. She craned her head back to see who had spoken.

Elladan and Orophin had followed her across and now stood behind her, their faces stamped with fatigue and worry.

"He needs elfish medicine," said Elladan, more gently. "Step aside Amdir. Let me tend him."

She stood still, afraid to lift her hand off his chest in case his heart stopped beating.

Elladan looked to Orophin, who gently raised her and led her back a few paces. "Go with the Prince, Amdir, we have work to do."

She looked up and saw that, across the bridge, more Mirkwood elves were walking to help tend those elves who were injured, and to remove those who had fallen. The group was led by Legolas who looked at her with obvious relief.

She shook her head. "No, I cannot leave him, Orophin, I will not."

Orophin took a depth breath. "Then remain here, I must help the others"

She nodded and returned to where Elladan knelt by Haldir. He had broken the tips off the arrows and tied a tourniquet around the March Warden's injured thigh. He worked alone as there were other injuries to both their party and the Mirkwood elves, but all she could focus on was Haldir.

She brushed the hair off his face. "Please Haldir, I know you don't want me, but you can't leave me like this. Please stay with me." She kissed his forehead repeatedly, and only once did his eyes open. His pupils did not react to the bright sunlight, and the blue of his irises seemed lighter than before.

She began to cry. "Please stay, please stay, my love, please don't leave me…"

Elladan looked up at her, but said nothing, he simply remained bent over his patient, placing his hands on various parts of the Haldir's broken body, whispering incantations and prayers. At some point Elrohir, appeared beside him and she finally rose and stood back as the two sons of Elrond worked hard to save Haldir's life.

Around her the Mirkwood contingent was dragging both the orc and horse carcasses into a bloody pile on each side of the river, and the injured elves lay in a line, tended by those warriors also trained in medicine.

On the Mirkwood side of the bridge she saw Rumil standing with Seren, and across from them, Aea. A rage that she had never known before surged through her at the sight of the Easterling.

Picking up a discarded orc sword, she marched across the bridge and over to where Gwalin had tied the woman's hands and feet, and stood guarding her.

"How could you?" She yelled at Aea, raising her sword.

Aea's eyes flew wide, but she remained silent and lifted her chin.

"If he dies, so help me, I will…" she lifted the sword to Aea's throat.

Gwalin pulled Aea back. "Amdir! Lower that sword! She is bound, we do not kill bound prisoners!"

Amdir continued as though she had not heard Gwalin.

"I trusted you, and I loved your brother. We would have been sisters!"

Aea narrowed her eyes. "When have elves ever cared for men? You live in your forest palaces with so much water that you drink wine instead, with so much food that you cannot hope to eat it all, while my people die of thirst, our children starve, and our animals perish in the sun of a land so barren, so filled with hardship, that is it a victory to survive at all.

"You, who have so much, yet what do you care of our suffering? My brother was partial to your Kingdom because of his elvish blood, but I am not so foolish. The Lords of Mordor are the only ones who have ever cared about what happens in Rhun.

"Of course we care!" countered Amdir, her voice shrill, but Aea laughed bitterly.

"You care only of your own heart, but I care about the heart of my people! I did not betray you, it was King Ulwarth and Uldor who betrayed Rhun when they tried to treat with your King. I do not regret my actions in guiding these orcs to you, I am only sorry we did not succeed in killing you. You dare raise that sword to me, but you haven't the courage to use it!"

Amdir pulled the sword back to strike, but Rumil, who had come up behind her, grabbed her arm and forced her to drop it. Gwalin quickly moved Aea a few feet away. 

"Not like this!" Rumil yelled at her.

"I will kill her! If he dies, I will kill her!"

He held her tightly and said through clenched teeth, "If he dies, I will kill her myself."

She stood for a moment in Rumil's arms, chest heaving, heart racing, then she turned back to Aea and spat in her face.

"Come Amdir," said Rumil more gently, and she allowed him to lead over to where Seren stood. The negotiator put her arms around her and they sat down together, taking solace in the security of friendship.

"I can't lose him, Seren, I can't go through it again…"

Seren tightened her arms around Amdir. "Shhhhhh," she soothed. "He is in good hands," but when Amdir looked up into Seren's face, she could see the worry in her eyes.


	28. Promises Made Promises Kept

By the time they reached Rhosgobel, they had been joined by five of Thranduil's most skilled healers including Amdir's beloved Tirathuil who had raised her after the death of her parents, carts of food and medicine, and most surprisingly, the King himself.

The homestead was more of an oversized two story cottage that had, up until his recent disappearance, housed Thranduil's closest friend, the Brown wizard Radagast.

It was clear that the wooden structure had been home to mostly animals. Owls and morning doves perched in the rafters, mice made cozy nests in the corners, and a small family of coyotes grudgingly allowed the elves to set up cots in their space on the ground floor, close to the warmth of the newly lit kitchen fires.

The main gate was left open and inside the inner courtyard wandered deer, lazily grazing at the remains of Radagast's kitchen garden.

When the elves arrived, the uninjured soldiers and healers set up their tents in the main courtyard, and the animals made their way to the back gardens, where the King sat quietly, communing with them as naturally as he communed with the trees and streams.

While the elves of Mirkwood understood the bond between the forest and the King, and were used to the sight of him closing his eyes to connect to the land, the Galadhrim watch him with wide-eyed wonder and a newfound respect and admiration, understanding for the first time, that he was more than a warrior King, he was the living spirit of the forest.

Seren was one of those who could not take her eyes off the King. "He is so beautiful, and so gentle – this is not the King we saw all those years ago in Lothlorien, except when he looks at us and then he frightens me," she gushed when her husband was out of sight.

Normally Amdir would have laughed at her friend's crush, but her heart could not rise to it. She spent every moment she could at Haldir's side, her hand on his chest or around his wrist lightly caressing his pulse points, whispering endearments into his ear as he slept and begging him to stay with her.

When they had first arrived at Rhosgobel, the March Warden was close to death. Poison from the orc arrows circulated through his body, and he oscillated between feverish delirium and a sleep far too deep to be called peaceful.

Elrohir and Elladan, apprentices to their father for many centuries, were the most skilled healers in the party and they worked hard to channel their lifeforce into the March Warden. Their healing power was sufficient to keep him alive in the short term, but they quickly grew drained, and there were other injured soldiers to heal. It was not enough, they were spread too thin.

When the King finally swept through the door, dressed like a Mirkwood guard, a bevvy of reinforcement healers following behind, Amdir could have wept for joy, had she herself not been so exhausted. Instead she wearily rose and curtseyed to her King, who raised his hand to her cheek, silently studied her eyes, then planted a kiss on her forehead and set to work.

"Elladan, Elrohir, you both look exhausted. Go eat, then rest. I will call on your help this evening."

"Your Grace," protested Elladan.

Thranduil glanced at him sharply. "The first rule of healing is to know your limits. Now do as your father taught." His voice softened. "You are skilled, Elladan, but you are no use to me in this condition."

Elladan nodded and he and his brother disappeared up the narrow stair leading to the sleeping quarters. Thranduil turned to Amdir, "Boil water," and the young elleth curtseyed and set about her task.

Next Thranduil stood with his hands at Haldir's head and Tira stood opposite him, her hands resting on Haldir's feet. Both took a deep breath. "Are you ready?" Thranduil asked, and Tira nodded.

They closed their eyes and a light began to radiate through their hands and rise above the march warden. Words rose up from the King's mouth and created a blue field of energy that encompassed the three elves in shining light. It shifted to green then pink then a blinding white, like starlight, that filled the room and poured out of the windows and doorways.

Haldir began to moan and writhe, at times he cried out in fear and pain, other times he repeated a woman's name that Amdir did not recognize, and after a time she took it to be his mother's. Suddenly the light evaporated, and he began to wretch.

"A pail," commanded Thranduil, and Amdir rushed to place a basin to the side where the March Warden was vomiting a vile black substance. Thranduil held him upright by his shoulders and when the vomiting ceased, Tira handed him a mug of something sweet smelling that Thranduil gently lifted to Haldir's lips. The March Warden took a few sips then fell back in exhaustion, his head resting on the King's hands, his eyes tightly shut.

Thranduil exhaled and closed his eyes, and for a single unguarded moment, Amdir glimpsed the worry lines on the King's brow and the outline of an ancient scar on his left cheek she had only heard of, but the King's efforts had not been in vain for Haldir's face was brighter than it had been before. Thranduil gently patted his patient's shoulder, then with a nod to Tira, walked away to check the other wounded soldiers.

Amdir quietly handed the basin to Tira and returned to the kitchen area to boil a strong brew of mulled wine for the King before returning to Haldir's side, where she gently placed her hand on his chest and resumed her watch.

* * *

She must have fallen asleep for when she woke it was nighttime, and she lay on a blanket on the floor by a large hearth.

She raised her head to see that the healers were serving the injured soldiers food. Most of the elves laying in cots in the great room were safely on the mend. All but one.

She rose on unsteady feet and looked to where, once again, the King stood at Haldir's head. This time he was joined by Elladan, Elrohir and his own son, Legolas.

Haldir's brothers stood against the wall, anxiously watching the others as they worked. She walked across the room, gently touching each patient as she passed in greeting, then stood against the wall beside the silver-haired ellyn.

To her surprise, Orophin wrapped a strong arm around her and tilted his head towards her. "My brother's biggest supporter. This is the first time I've seen you away from his side. Have you eaten?"

She shook her head.

"Me neither," he said.

They watched as the elves laid their hands on their patient and, closing their eyes, channeled their life force into him. Again he writhed, and again he violently wretched out the poison, until his head fell back against Thranduil's chest in exhaustion and sleep claimed him.

Amdir could not watch any longer, and she made her way out to the back garden, startling a family of rabbits who quickly hopped to a far corner of yard. She slumped down on a stone bench, eyes closed.

A few minutes later, someone sat beside her and she opened her eyes wearily. Legolas had brought her some fruit, cheese and a large mug of ale that she accepted gratefully.

"I never expected he would come to save Haldir," she said after a few bites of cheese and a healthy swig of the beer. She covered her mouth to suppress a soft belch.

Legolas furrowed his brow. "My father has few true friends. Tira his healer, Radagast his confidant, and Haldir, his… I'm not sure what Haldir is, but my father cares for him, I do know that. If Haldir lay injured in Far Harad, my father would go to him."

"I thought he hated Haldir. I caught them fighting about me in the Brownlands."

"Arguing?"

" _Fighting."_

Legolas chuckled. "One would think, but it is not so. He respects Haldir. I once heard my father say that Haldir was the only ellon he was truly indebted to, and that he would almost be sorry when that debt was discharged."

She smiled. "I cannot imagine him saying that."

The Prince put some cheese in his mouth and offered Amdir a slice of peach. "And yet he did. He didn't know I was listening; I don't think he realizes I pay such close attention. Will you marry him, do you think?"

"Your father is already married."

Legolas rolled his eyes and gently bumped her with his shoulder.

She smiled sadly. "If he lives—"

"He will live."

"Then he will not have me. I have tried to regain his affections, but he says he cannot move past my relationship with Uldor."

"Then why stay at his side as you do? You have other options, you know. El-"

"Elladan shall never marry an elleth. We all know that."

"He's not the one I was going to say. I have seen how Elrohir looks at you. Would you consider his hand?"

Amdir was silent for a full minute. She had never even considered the possibility that she had attracted Elrohir's attention. Unlike Elladan, with whom she'd developed a close bond, Elrohir always struck her as more distant. There was no denying the ellon was handsome with his father's intelligence and his grandfather Celeborn's ferocity and cunning. But in her eyes, even Elrohir was no Haldir.

She smiled. "I have not. I am too low-born to marry a son of Elrond, and while I have affection for him, it is no different than the affection I have for you."

"So you want to marry me then, is that what your saying?" He offered an exaggerated sigh. "Yet another proposal. Well, alright then, I will take it to my father yet again…"

She began to laugh and swatted his arm.

Legolas touched his arm in mock pain, then passed her the ale.

"I believe Haldir  _will_  survive this, my father is doing everything to make that happen and between him and the healing power of the House of Elrond, it will be. But if what you say is truly how Haldir feels, why stay at his side if he will never have you? You could return to Mirkwood right now, then continue on to Erebor and complete your mission. Why linger?"

She exhaled and turned her face away from the silver-haired prince. "I know you are right, I should leave, but I can't. He doesn't need to love me as I love him, Legolas. I only need him to exist for me to be able to survive, and right now is he fighting the big fight. I won't leave him in the midst of battle."

"He will live." Legolas patted her hand, and they sat together until a thin sliver of moon rose in the sky, and Legolas was called to assist with the last healing sessions of the night. Amdir went inside with him and resumed her vigil at Haldir's side.

* * *

His throat ached, and he tasted blood. Worse than blood. It was vile, and he needed to get it out. He turned to his side, insides heaving, and when he saw the black liquid in the pail, it frightened him.

Then a firm hand pressed against his forehead and he felt a cooling peace emanate down through the rest of his body, where it was met with another wave of peace rising up from his feet, ocean water washing away the darkness. But still his throat ached and even the sweet tea they kept feeding him burned.

He saw figures around him. Like trees they stood, aspen, beech, willow, and at his head, he sensed a great oak tree and he clung to that vision, keeping his eyes on the oak as a fresh surge of darkness poisoned his blood and his vision. It flowed through his body like the searing waves of heat that scorched the plains of Rhun and even his corneas burned.

On one side of the pain stood the oak, on the other, his mother. One called him out of his body, invited him to end the agony and surrender to the great joy of creation, to cease his worry and embrace a new lightness of being, but that oak stood tall, blocking his way, calling him back, reminding him he was a warrior, reminding him that warriors do not surrender; they fight.

And so he fought. His hands clawed out the eyes of the menacing black snakes that writhed throughout his body and swam up his veins, trying to invade his heart.

He pushed back the great waves of darkness that swept over him with the regularity of an ocean tide, threatening to drown his lungs in tar, and he resisted the beckoning call of his mother, who had died when he was a young elfling, she who promised an end to his pain.

Now there was a new voice, a melodic bell gently chiming around the base of the oak tree. A promise, a hand holding his, soft fingers at his wrist.

And for a moment he floated above his body. The relief was profound, and when he looked down, he saw the backs of those elves kneeling over him, their hands on his torso. He watched as he writhed and cried out in pain, and he felt glad that, hovering above, he could no longer feel it.

Above him he saw light and colour, he heard singing and he saw his mother's serene face calling out to him. Below he saw himself vomit darkness, noted the angry red flesh of the gash on his thigh, and he saw the lines of fatigue on his face as he struggled. The lines softening as his life left him. At his head, he saw a glowing green light of oak leaves and he watched the light diminish as the healer lost hope. Finally, the oak exhaled and looked to the other trees.

"I don't know what else we can do…" it said in a far away voice.

A sob of grief rose above his body, and the willow grasped his hand and shook it. "No! You are not allowed to die, Haldir of Lothlorien. You are not allowed to leave me! Please…" her voice shook and the other trees gathered around her, trying to pull her away but she would not let go. Then she looked up, and she saw him floating above her, watching, considering. She was angry, and her tear stained face was pinched. He knew her – he had saved her, once, in the forest.

"You promised me," she said with heartbreaking sadness, and he sighed, for he should not be able to feel her ache, yet he did.

He exhaled and suddenly his mind was overwhelmed with the agony of healing, and his limbs jerked around him.

The trees turned into elves, and at his head he looked up and saw the King. He worked his mouth but it was so dry. His brother stepped forward and squeezed a cloth over his lips, and sweet liquid fell onto his tongue and it tasted like ambrosia.

He looked up again, locking onto icy blue eyes and within their irises he could see the threads of energy that connected the hröa and the fëa with silken strands that formed intricate crystal snowflakes, each one different, each one beautiful, and Thranduil leaned down and placed his ear to the patient's mouth.

"I promised," Haldir whispered before another spasm of pain threw him into the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

It took two more days before the wounded were stable enough to withstand the slow march along the secret elf path north to Thranduil's halls.

King Thranduil paid the prisoner, Aea, little attention except to send her to his cells in the bowels of the palace on arrival, bound and blindfolded, to await his judgement. Amdir was grateful Aea was gone. The anger the woman inspired only served to make Amdir feel worse; another lost friendship, another person gone from her life, another promise broken.

In total, the elves had lost six soldiers – four from Lothlorien and two from Mirkwood, and 14 horses. Of the wounded, four were able to ride, but six needed to be transported in wagons. The rest of the elves rode two to a saddle or walked on foot alongside the horses.

The King rode at the head of the procession with either Legolas or Amdir riding beside him. As they neared the Palace, he called for Amdir.

"Your face has lost its bloom; your losses weigh heavily upon you," said Thranduil, as they rode side by side. They had ridden ahead of the column, so it felt as though they were taking a private afternoon ride, as they had so many times before.

Amdir self consciously touched her cheek and tucked her short hair behind her ear.

"Do you miss the Easterling very much?"

"Yes, and no. I did at the beginning, I missed him so much I thought I would die, but I found peace in Imladris, and since we have travelled north, I have not thought of him that often. I almost feel guilty that I should move on. That I wrong him and his memory."

Thranduil's great grey destrier moved smoothly and decisively, much like his master. Amdir rode Elrohir's roan gelding, one of the few horses that had survived the battle. The twin had said that he preferred to walk ahead and scout on foot, and although the King knew there was nothing to find, he allowed Elrohir his space.

"Do not feel guilty. You are still young enough to think your suffering is profound, but in truth, it is the natural way of things. When we suffer shock, either we diminish, or we develop wisdom and move on. Uldor would want you to do the latter, and so you are. You honour his memory in this way."

She sat high in her saddle, absorbing his words, then Thranduil touched her arm and pointed into the trees with his chin. When she looked she spotted the speckled brown rump of a fawn leaping into the bushes to hide and she smiled at its long-limbed beauty.

They continued in companionable silence for a few minutes until Thranduil said, "I had thought that you might return to Mirkwood with a wedding announcement. Haldir all but asked me for your hand after Uldor died."

Her head jerked up. "What did you say to this?"

"I said it was up to you. So I might ask you the same. What did _you_  say?"

"My Lord, I said way too much, and none of it good. Now he will not have me."

Thranduil looked down at her with knit brows, then he shook his head.

"I cannot imagine that anything you said could have dissuaded him; he was quite intent. The March Warden is not a frivolous ellon, his speaking to me suggests his affection for you is real. And I have seen it myself. He is besotted with you, my dear, and if I know Haldir – and I believe I do – he does not change his mind easily."

"You don't understand…"

Thranduil raised his brows.

Amdir cringed and tried again. "Forgive me, what I meant to say, my Lord, is that I hurt him, very badly. So much happened between us, more than I could ever share with you. I have shamed myself, and I have shamed you too, my Lord. He holds no love for me now, and even if he did I do not deserve him. I will stay with him as long as he is in Mirkwood or until he asks me to leave, and when that happens, I will travel with the twins to Imladris to continue my work for Lord Elrond."

He looked at her appraisingly, taking her measure. "Are you quite sure this is what you desire?"

She looked away. "It is not what I desire, but it is what I shall do."

They rode in silence and she looked at him from the corner of her eye. He sat erect, his bearing as regal as ever. His looked at her back from the corner of his eye with a small smile. "What is on your mind?"

"I fear you will ask how I shamed you."

"Did you bring those orcs down on us at the river?"

She blinked. "No,"

"Did you kill Uldor?"

"No!"

"Have you ever been in service to the Dark Lord?"

"My King?"

He chuckled softly. "Amdir, I don't care what you did. Perhaps you shamed me, perhaps not. But you are alive, you are whole, and your future is bright, and there was a time when I doubted all three of these things."

He favoured her with a smile. "The details do not concern me, I am too old to worry about who said what or who slept with whom."

She gasped, and he shot her a knowing glance. "I am older than I look, dear child, and there is little that escapes me. I am merely relieved that it would appear that I am forgiven for meddling in your life."

Despite her red-hot cheeks, she smiled shyly and glanced up at him. "Yes, my Lord, you are forgiven, but…" her voice faltered.

"Speak plainly, child."

She took a deep breath. "You are my King and I love you like a father. I will never disobey you. So please, my Lord, please will you let me make my own decisions for now on?"

He gave her a long look that softened to a tender smile, then he sat straight, tossed his hair back, and said "I will think about it."


	29. Son of an Orc

Thranduil rose and stretched his back, exhaling through puffed cheeks. For an hour the Galadhrim elves had sat with his son and the sons of Elrond discussing the fate of the prisoner and the Erebor meeting. The only one that seemed to have any sense was the negotiator, that pretty elleth who had inexplicably married one of the March Warden's brothers.

He pursed his lips and carried his wine outside to the large stone patio that overlooked the forest. The negotiator was the only one of the group with the courage to voice the truth: That Thranduil had damaged the trust between Mirkwood and Lothlorien.

He knew he risked alienation when he went behind the Lady Galadriel's back in negotiating with Ulwarth, but had the gamble paid off, it would have been easy to justify given the security it meant for the elven realms.

He was confident that the more volatile Celeborn would forgive him, he was kin, after all, but Celeborn's lady was another matter altogether and he could feel her disappointment in his bones even from this distance. Truth be told, Lady Galadriel's disappointment was the only thing he truly feared in Middle-earth, for her trust once broken, could not be unbroken.

He took a sip of wine and stared out into the darkness, his eyes skimming the top of the inky green canopy. Black dots – bats - flew across the quarter moon and the hoot of a distant owl wished the King a good evening. If he closed his eyes, he could hear a family of mice breathing as they slept in their warm burrow and the nearby swish of a wolfish tail as the animal watched over its mate who suckled a new litter of pups. His forest was safe for now, the streams gurgled merrily as his mind washed over them and they reassured him.

He sighed. The forest told him in its gentle way that Galadriel had already forgiven him, trust was not altered, but something more was needed; a gesture of some kind. Perhaps a gift – white gems? He shook his head, Galadriel had never cared for treasure of that kind. Perhaps he could send Legolas to Celeborn. He had fostered with Celeborn for a time in his early youth; would a position with the Galadhrim restore their good will?

And then there was the matter of Aea, the prisoner. Amdir had recounted Aea's words and talked about the suffering of the people of Rhun. While alleviating their plight was certainly not his motivation for Amdir's queenship, the idea that she could help the struggling region had crossed his mind. But when the treaty failed, he didn't give it another thought.

After all, what business of his was it if men starved? They would die eventually, he had more important things to worry about. Except that now that suffering had caused the death of his own people and motivated the one thing he did not want to happen: A treaty between Rhun and Mordor.

Perhaps men were right in not trusting elves, and assuming they only served their own interests. Most elves were preparing to leave for the Undying Lands. Elrond and Galadriel cared about the fortunes of Middle-earth, but both planned to leave. How much were they truly invested?

But not I, Thranduil thought to himself.  _I will never leave my forest, I must do better._ An idea began to form in his mind and the more it took shape, the more he realized that he had work to do before the night was over.

* * *

Feren looked distinctly uncomfortable as he led Thranduil down the narrow stairs that led to the prisoners' cells.

Thranduil could see his Captain's worry lines even in the forgiving light of the amber scones that lined the halls. They crossed the stone bridge over the underground river in silence, but Thranduil saw that Feren was tense, likely questioning every step.

"Do you remember the last time you led me down this passage?" the King asked.

Feren nodded his head. "Yes, Sire. It was to see Queen Isobel in her cell."

"Of course, she was not yet my queen."

"No Sire."

"Do you worry that I will marry every female prisoner I question?"

Feren looked back at him with shocked eyes. "Of course not, my Lord King!"

The King laughed. "Peace, Captain Feren. It is but a bad jest. I would bid that you stay with me as I speak to this chieftain. There will be actions for you to follow up on afterwards."

"Yes Sire."

The two elves reached the mithril gate of the prisoner's cell and Aea, who had been laying on her cot, quickly stood up.

Feren unsheathed his sword, while a third guard opened the gate for them. The King pulled a small chair that sat in the corner to him and gracefully sat down, crossing his legs and staring at Aea.

"You may sit."

She sat down on the edge of her bed, and looked at him directly with angry black eyes.

Thranduil exhaled and looked around. "Are you quite comfortable?" he asked, although his tone suggested he didn't actually care.

"I have had worse, although I do miss the sun."

"Yes, well that is not my concern, nor why I'm here. There is a long list of charges against you. You led a party of orcs to my allies and this resulted in the deaths of six elves and no less than 14 horses. For that alone, you will spend the rest of your life in this cell."

Aea glared at him defiantly as he spoke, but at his last sentence, her eyes betrayed her grief and she looked down.

"Tell me, was it you who betrayed your brother to the Lords of Mordor? Destroying a treaty that would have brought men and elves together, killing a brother whose death broke the heart of a daughter of my house?"

Aea's silence spoke volumes, as did the tears streaming down the woman's face. Thranduil had more to say, but he gave the woman time to collect herself. He went to speak but she beat him to it.

"When Uldor first told me about the treaty, I was fearful for him. I felt he would be in danger if he returned as Ulwarth' s heir. I had not forgotten the massacre of my family or the years of rape and cruelty we both suffered afterwards. I came to look at the death of my family members as a blessing for them because they escaped the pain that we – Uldor with his captor and me with mine – went through. I escaped my captor with nothing but my wits, and you will already know that Uldor's father released him of his own accord.

By the time I left my captor dead in his bed – a cut throat – a better death than he deserved, Uldor had already established the Men of the Brown and he took me in without question. When I met Sidu, I knew happiness for the first time since I was a child. Sidu made me whole again, he restored to me what those evil men had stolen.

The King leaned forward. "Then why do their bidding?"

Aea shook her head, her face raw with despair. "Because I know them, and they will not stop till they have the power they want. They will starve, kill and rape every brother, sister and child they must until they win. Uldor was a warrior with a warrior's heart. He would always stand and fight, he was so courageous, but his valor did not allow him to see a lost cause. I thought if I could give Mordor what it wanted, they would spare him, and they would spare us.

"And you misjudged."

She shook her head. "No, King Thranduil. They may have gone against our agreement and killed my brother, and I regret that more than you will ever know, but even as I speak, food and water arrive in Rhun. Mordor takes our young men to fight, it is true, but Mordor feeds them. The elves have never fed us, have never cared; only when it suited you. Because of your meddling, I lost Sidu, my love, and Uldor, my brother. Elves will never bring anything but heartbreak to men, and the sooner you leave Middle-earth, the better."

Thranduil sat still, his unwavering eyes locked with Aea's and he tilted his head to study her. Finally, he exhaled and looked away. "This is the problem with men," he said, as he rose.

"You have such energy and passion. Your time is shorter, and you fill it with so much love, and I do believe there is wisdom in that. But you have one downfall, Aea, sister of Uldor: You lack faith. And that is why we sit here today. I am sorry for you."

Aea refused to break down in front of him, and Thranduil admired her inner-strength. Without another word, he rose and nodded to the guard who let both he and his Captain out. He returned to his rooms thoughtful.

* * *

The next day Amdir sat across from the King in his solar. She had been sitting at Haldir's side when the King had summoned her. She hated to leave Haldir, but a summons was a summons.

Now she nibbled on strawberries (whenever the King summoned her to his solar, he always had strawberries on hand, it was their special tradition) and waited for him to speak. She smiled as she watched him at his desk, signing a few scrolls before he gave her his full attention.

He was so unlike Lord Elrond. While her King surrounded himself with beautiful things, he was altogether earthier than Lord Elrond. Thranduil's strength was palpable, like a sudden flood that destroyed all before it, but left a wash of new life in its path. The thought of a flood made her shudder and Thranduil looked up and lowered his quill.

"I have a job for you."

She raised her brows. "I am yours to command."

His mouth twitched. "If only. But luckily, I think you will like this job. The people of Rhun, as you well know, and thanks to our prisoner, have entered a treaty with Mordor. The prime motivation of this treaty is to alleviate the hunger and suffering of the people of Rhun.

"I would like you to organize a covert humanitarian effort to send supplies to Rhun to help those who suffer the most. Food, medicine, clean water. It will not be easy to cross what are now, unfortunately, enemy lines, but it is an opportunity to do good without an ulterior motive, and to help the people you might have ruled, had circumstances been different."

Amdir opened her mouth and tilted her head, staring at her King for a heartbeat. "There is really no ulterior motive?"

Thranduil blinked. "Perhaps a small one. My hope is that when the people of Rhun come to understand that we are actively helping them, they may form a resistance against Mordor. But that is not your concern. Your concern is simple: Get food and water across the border. Offer succor to the suffering. It may help us, it may not, but it will help  _them_. Will you do it?"

Her face bloomed into a genuine smile. "My Lord King, it would be my honour."

* * *

Haldir glowered at the painting of a large battle stag that hung on the wall near his bed. Isobel had painted that –  _Queen_  Isobel now – he recognized her style, the same style of the portrait she had painted of him many decades before.

He pulled himself up in his bed, wincing at the pain he felt when he moved his leg or his side…or his chest. By the Valar,  _everything hurt._  He stared for a moment at the steaming tea Tira had left on the bed stand. A few sips and he would sink into painless oblivion; it was tempting.

But no.

The healers would be in to poke and prod at his injuries soon enough, not to mention his brothers and their constant insults. He needed be to sharp of mind to tell off the healers  _and_  his brothers.

Mirkwood.

 _Feanor's bullocks._  Of all the places he had to end up, injured, it had to be  _here._  Greenwood the bloody Great. No doubt King Thranduil was loving this, the life-debt finally discharged. Haldir laying powerless in Thranduil's healing room… suffering Tira's ongoing… wait. He did like Tira. Tirathuil was lovely, to be honest.

He sighed. The sooner he was out of this bed, and able to return to Lothlorien and his duties there, the better. He was about to drink the tea, when the door opened and the Elvenking swept into the room.

"Oh joy, you are awake. I have news," he said dryly.

Haldir exhaled in irritation. "If you have come to announce that the debt is discharged, I am aware, and I am most grateful for the care you have shown me. I thank you for saving my life, etcetera, etcetera."

Thranduil sat down in the chair by the March Warden's bed, so recently vacated by Amdir.

"Now that you are semi-lucid, it is the 'etceteras' that I wish to discuss."

 _Semi-lucid._  Haldir shook his head and cursed his leg wound.

"You may be aware that I recently endangered the trust and goodwill between our two realms," the King began.

"I may have heard something about that," Haldir responded cautiously, but his eyes narrowed, where was this going?

"When trust is threatened, it must be reinforced, and quickly. I have found a way to bring our two reams together once again."

Haldir raised his brows. But for all his bluster to ignore Thranduil, he was genuinely interested. "My Lady is not easily appeased," he offered.

"I am aware of that. I suggested my son as a squire to Lord Celeborn, and Legolas himself was willing, but unfortunately, I have need of him at home. A prisoner has gone missing."

"Aea?"

"No, not her, rather, another who I had under my protection for more than a year. A repulsive creature, but one who holds knowledge that could be dangerous in the wrong hands. Legolas will be travelling to Imladris shortly to discuss the matter with Lord Elrond, but I digress. In lieu of my son's services, I have offered her Lady a new symbol of the alliance between our two houses: A marriage."

"You are to marry off Legolas?"

"I am to marry off  _you_."

Haldir lay in stunned silence, and after a 20-second delay, he blinked.  _"Me?"_

"Yes, I considered the same. 'who would possibly have you?' But there it is; you are to be married. May I be be the first to offer you and your unlucky bride my congratulations."

Haldir's chest felt tight, he couldn't quite get enough oxygen. Unbelievable, he thought: I'm having a heart attack. "Your Grace, may I trouble you to pass me that hot tea on the nightstand? I have sudden need of it."

Thranduil grinned. "I have something more appropriate for the occasion." He removed a flask from a pocket hidden deep in his red brocade robe, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to Haldir.

Haldir took a deep swig and shuddered. The sensation was good and strong and it woke him up. "What is that?" he asked, handing it back.

Thranduil himself took a long pull and swallowed with a satisfied smile. "That, my good Captain, is the best Dorwinian distilled spirit that gold can buy."

"It is good spirit," nodded Haldir, feeling the warmth in his belly as the alcohol settled, "but I will not marry."

The King pulled a rolled parchment out of his pocket and tossed onto the bed. "You will. The Lady of Light commands it."

Haldir frowned and unfurled the scroll, quickly reading the words, then he looked up to Thranduil, dying to knock that smug self-satisfied look off the King's face.

"My Lady does not know what happened, and nor do you. I will _not_  marry her."

Thranduil opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly, clearly considering his words. Finally he spoke, but his voice was quieter.

"She does know what happened, Haldir, as do I. There is nothing Galadriel doesn't see in the water when she has an interest, and I can read the ellith of my household easily enough." He exhaled through his nose and his face was stamped with rare sympathy. "I know how badly you were hurt, first the marriage alliance and then the baby."

Haldir raised himself up on the bed quickly and winced with the pain of it. Had he been able to get up and hit the King, he would have. He wanted nothing more than to leave the room. Damn this leg! He shot Thranduil a withering glance.

"It is  _none of your business_ ," he seethed.

Thranduil looked pained for a moment, but quickly schooled his features and raised his chin. "No, it is not, and I am sorry to speak of it. But she has not left your side since your injury. She should be in Erebor right now, but she has refused to go. Instead she sits at your side day and night, and when she thinks you are about to wake, she leaves you, because she knows you would rather not see her. Surely you have felt a hand on your chest as you ease in and out of sleep? Whose hand did you think that was?"

Haldir shook his head. "I, I don't know, I thought…" He paused. "Every night?"

"Without fail."

There was a prolonged silence in the room.

"Haldir, look."

The march warden raised dark angry eyes to the King.

"We may not be friends in the traditional sense of the word, but I think we understand one another. May I offer an observation?"

Haldir exhaled and looked away.

"That elleth has loved you her entire life. I know; I raised her. The amount of times I had to hear about the  _Daring Exploits of Haldir Of Lothlorien_  or had to pin childish paintings of your bony face to my wall, I cannot even tell you the pain it has caused me. What that girl sees in you I will never understand."

Haldir's mouth twitched.

"But she loved you until the day I manipulated and forced her to do a duty that took her away from you. It was not her, Haldir, it was  _me_ , and had I not interfered, I believe you would have married, for you have already admitted you feel the same way about her.

"She was pregnant, yes, and I am sorry about your child,  _but she didn't know_. Uldor did, he sensed it, but she didn't, and you punish her for something that was not in her control. And now the Easterling is dead, and your love returns to you, yet you deny her. Uldor only has the power to stand between you if you allow it, and right now, you cut off your nose to spite your face. That Easterling is either laughing at his power over you, or cursing your stupidity for not grasping the opportunity in front of you with both hands.

"I know I am the last person from whom you wish to receive counsel, I am aware of our history, but you are my worthy adversary, and if your enemy cannot be honest with you, what is left in this world? Now get over your arrogance and your stubbornness and marry my damn daughter!"

Haldir closed his eyes. "Has she been told about this?"

Thranduil scoffed. "Of course not. She would be far too likely to bring up foolish points like 'choice', and the reality is that I need her to be a peace weaver this one last time. She is of stout heart, and she will do her duty if I command it. War is coming to Mirkwood, and we must ensure we have the support of Lothlorien just as Lothlorien needs us. Your Lord and Lady have requested this of you, it is there in that scroll. Will you do your duty, Haldir of Lothlorien, for the sake of the realm if not your own heart?"

Haldir said nothing. He merely glared at Thranduil, then reached over to the table and drank the tea in its entirely, then sank back in the pillow and drifted towards the deep grey nothingness of relief. He heard Thranduil say "You will be happy, you son an an orc, if it's the last thing I do," before sleep claimed him.


	30. Shattered Crystal & Wet Shirts

"I HATE HIM!" She flung a crystal goblet across the room and it shattered against the marble hearth with a loud crash, then she exhaled. "Damn it, that was part of a set."

She sat down on the bed and buried her face in her hands.

"Knock… knock?"

Amdir looked up and saw Seren in the doorway, one hand over her belly, the other raised in hesitant greeting.

"Come in, if you dare."

Seren stepped in and noted the shattered glass. "I am brave, remember?"

Amdir laughed dryly. "You'd have to be. Have you heard?"

"I wish I could say 'no', but the whole court is talking about it. They think it's a good match." Seren cocked her head and studied her friend.

Amdir sat on her bed and pouted. "Of course it's a good match, it's a wonderful match. But I didn't want it like this. I want him to want me, not marry me out of some misplaced sense of duty. How could Thranduil do this to me a second time? I should never have returned."

"I would never say that Haldir has a misplaced sense duty." Seren sat at the foot of the bed, tucking her leg underneath her.

"He may in this case, assuming he's even agreed to the arrangement. Everyone knows that Galadriel would forgive our King almost anything, and time would heal any transgression as easily as an alliance through marriage. Thranduil thinks he is doing this for me."

Seren pursed her lips and shook her head. "I don't think so. I am under the impression that the King is doing this for  _Haldir."_

Amdir barely heard the comment. "I sat by his side every moment I could. I prayed and begged and bargained with the Valar to have him stay, but I wanted to _earn_  him back, not have him take me because he was ordered to."

"What does it matter? Either way you get the hero, and even if he is mad now and marries you out of duty, he will come around in time. You are a part of him, if he has forgotten this, he needs to be reminded. Have you talked to him?"

Amdir rose to gather the broom from behind the door. "Not since the night I tried to seduce him, and he picked me up and dropped me in a heap on the ground. No I have not talked to him about our relationship."

Seren sat up. "Things have changed. Amdir: Go talk to him."

"I can't."

Seren turned wide eyes to her.

"Don't look at me like that," she protested. "I have a lot to do, somebody has to clean up this broken glass."

Seren sighed. "Amdir…"

The young elleth slowly sat back down on the bed, broom in hand. "You don't know him like I do. Haldir will do anything for duty. He will marry if ordered to, and I will never know if he truly loved me. Thranduil should not have meddled."

Seren moved up on the bed to sit next her friend. "What if I told you that it wasn't all the King's idea?"

Amdir stared straight ahead of her and slowly made space between them. "Pardon?"

"The King came to me when we were at Rhosgobel. He asked me about your relationship with Haldir. He said he was concerned for you and wanted to help, and I told him that you wanted Haldir but that Haldir refused to get out of his own way. That he was blinded by his anger."

"And together you thought you would force him into forgiving me? Force him into a marriage he doesn't want?"

Seren shifted uncomfortably, and Amdir pounced.

"How dare you treat us like that? You and Rumil were given the time and space to fall in love, and yet you think it is acceptable to dictate and advise on my life as though I were an asset of the state!"

Seren rose, her hands out in front of her. "It wasn't like that Amdir. The King cares for you and he cares for Haldir too. He wanted to help."

Amdir rubbed her forehead and pinched the top of her nose. "I don't need your help," she said through clenched teeth as she started to gather her things.

Seren looked alarmed. "Where are you going?"

"First to see Haldir to apologize for the actions of…. _everyone_ , then I will travel back to Imladris, resume my work there, and forget any of this ever happened. And I warn you, Seren, if there is ever to be any friendship between us ever again, do not interfere."

Seren's eyes began to tear up and she wrung her hands, but she did not try to stop her. Amdir glanced at her friend and hesitated, but she was too angry to deal with Seren right now. She grabbed a vase of flowers off her desk and stormed out of the room.

* * *

30 minutes later, the elleth was pacing the hall outside of Haldir's door, trying to muster up the courage to enter.

"It's not like he can do anything, I mean, he can't even walk…but he can order me out…or ask me to stay…no, he won't do that…he will wonder why I'm there at all…'didn't I ask you leave?' he might say or maybe he'll be happy that I've come…but unlikely…"

"Who, in Middle-earth, are you talking to?"

Amdir whirled around and met Tira, who was quietly leaving the March Warden's room. "Myself, unfortunately."

Tira smiled and stood patiently.

"How is he?" Amdir asked.

"Much improved, although his mood seems off. I can't imagine why."

Amdir slowly shrugged her shoulders. "Nor can I," she said in the most innocent voice she could conjure.

Tira raised a brow. "I suspect," she said, looking at Amir pointedly, "that he misses his companion."

Amdir exhaled. There was simply no point in playing coy with the elleth who had raised her. "Tira, he didn't even know I was there, what difference does it make?"

The healer smiled. "I think he knows, I think it's the reason he returned to us. Why not go in, Amdir. It could do no harm, and you two have much to talk about."

Amdir gave Tira a long look that ended in a nervous smile, then gently knocked on the door.

"Come in,"

She bit her lip and looked back at Tira, who raised her brows and mouthed 'go.'

When she entered the room, Haldir's eyes were closed. He lay against a pillow, his hair free and loose over his shoulders and he wore no shirt. His torso still bore the bandages from his arrow wounds.

"Place it on the nightstand," he said, eyes still closed, causally motioning to the table by his head. Amdir placed the flowers close to him, so he could smell them on waking, then she sat down in the chair by the bed. He took a deep breath and relaxed more deeply into the pillow.

She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "Haldir?"

The March Warden's eyes flew open, and his arm jerked out, overturning the flowers that fell onto the floor with a crash, spilling water and petals everywhere.

"What in the…?"

"I'm so sorry!" she gasped and immediately knelt to gather the flowers and sop up the water with a white linen towel that she grabbed from the sidetable.

"That is my shirt"

"Oh my, I apologize…" She stood up, one hand holding a few roses, the other held the now sopping wet shirt. "I'll just place these here," she carefully placed them on the nightstand, "and go."

She turned on her heel, squeezing her eyes shut in mortification the moment her back was turned.

"Amdir, wait,"

She paused.

"Do stay, we have things to discuss."

She exhaled a ragged breath then slowly turned around.

"Please," he motioned to the chair.

She sat down, and an awkward silence prevailed. He slowly hoisted himself up against his pillows, then turned his blue eyes on her. He was paler than he had been and his face more narrow, but it only served to accentuate his chiseled features. She had rarely seen him with his hair down and had never seen him shirtless, except that one time…

"I see you almost brought me flowers," he said with a small, slightly amused smile.

She nodded. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better. Tira says I can start exercising this leg in a few more days. She also said that you stayed with me while I was unconscious."

She caught his eye, but quickly looked away with small shrug. "You were far from home and I didn't want you to be alone."

He lowered his head to catch her eyes again she wondered what was happening. It was unlikely he'd forgiven her, but perhaps he wished to renew her friendship? It may not be a love story for the ages, but it was something.

"It was kindly done. Thank you," he said.

She nodded again and bit her lip.

"I also hear we are to be married," he said lightly, as though he were commenting on the weather.

She immediately rose and the words began to tumble out of her mouth. "I did not mean to, it was not my doing, you must believe me—"

He raised his hand. "Peace, Amdir, I know this already. The King spoke to me before he spoke to you. Please sit down. There is some wine on that far table, I would pour it for you if I could."

She exhaled and sat down heavily. "I do not need wine, in truth I don't know what to say, other than I'm sorry. About Uldor, the baby, doubting you with Aea, even the flowers," she motioned to the remaining stems still laying on the floor. "I'm so sorry."

He looked at her for a long while but said nothing and although she thought she was mentally prepared for his response, her heart sank nonetheless.  _He looks like one of the Valar, I do not want him as just my friend, and every time I see him, my heart will break again._

She took a breath. "Also," she continued quickly. "I want to officially release you from this latest arranged marriage. I'm not quite sure what my Lord King was thinking, but I do think we can agree that match-making may not be his greatest skill. You were very clear about your intentions and also taught me a valuable lesson about respecting boundaries, and so, as much as I have cared for you, you are free of this duty, this obligation. I think we both know our realms are in good standing and so, I release you."

Haldir opened his mouth to speak but she was afraid of what he may say, so she continued talking, her voice a touch louder and edged in formality.

"And furthermore, you go with my full blessing, and my hope that you enjoy a prosperous and bountiful future."

"Are you finished?"

"With lots of children and adventures...but no unexpected Easterlings." She paused. "Now I am finished."

He exhaled and sat back against the pillows, then looked at her. "That was quite a speech."

"Thank you, I practiced it outside your door for twenty-five minutes."

His lips twitched. "Did you? I did not hear that…"

She smoothed her gown over her knees. "Well, now that  _that_  is done, you can move on with  _the business of living_. May we part in peace, Haldir O Lor-" She made to rise, but he reached out and touched her knee.

"Amdir, stop."

She sat back down, her breath held.

"The King came this morning, and when he told me his plans, I admit, I was furious. Yet again. You see, I have been so angry these last 12 months. At you, at Uldor, at Thranduil and Celeborn, at everything and everyone."

She jumped in. "But I only want-"

"Amdir, please let me finish. I must share this with you."

He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. "The morning you disappeared when we were in the Brown, the day after we made love, not even the power of creation could have consoled me, I was so hurt. I felt you had betrayed me, and I couldn't make peace with it. You were always special to me, you know know this, but when I saw you grown last year in Cara Galadhon, a part of me felt that the reason I saved you all those decades ago was because now you would be mine. I know how selfish that sounds – and perhaps even inappropriate...

"But I just… dammit, I have been a fool. I may have saved your life long ago, but over these past few weeks, you saved mine. I know it was you who reminded me of the promise I made to always protect you, and that you called me back from death. I saw it. And I know it was your hand that rested on my chest every night, keeping me planted in this world. I felt it.

She stared, afraid to move, afraid to blink, waiting for the 'but', except that it didn't come.

"Amdir, my beautiful loboth," his fingers reached up and gently touched the tip of a porcelain ear that showed through her short hair.

"I know I have hurt you, but please do not go to Imladris, at least not yet. Do you remember when we sat in the patio of your cottage in Caras Galadhon and we said that we would take the time to get to know one another? Let's forget all that has happened, and take that time, take a lifetime. Second chances are few and far between, and I want you at my side. Will you come home with me and be my wife?

For a moment she thought she hadn't heard him right. She closed her eyes tightly as though trying to solve a puzzle.

"Amdir?"

She opened them and cocked her head. "And you forgive me?" she asked slowly.

He exhaled and his breath shook. She realized he was nervous.

"I don't blame you for acting as you did," he said. "In fact, I admire you. You were heroic. I forgive you, if you can forgive me."

Tears stood in her eyes. "But you threw me in the grass."

"A damned fool."

Her heart beat, but she had to know. "This is not for duty?"

"Duty be damned."

He stared at her, his clear blue eyes steady, his arched brows intense as he waited for her response.

Finally a smile bloomed on her face, and he held his hand out to her. "Never doubt my love for you. Come to me."

She rose, and carefully sat on the side of his bed, then she tentatively raised his hand to her lips, as though testing to see if he would pull it away, but instead he studied her face, his mouth tipped in a gentle smile. Then he reached around her and pulled her into a passionate kiss that left her breathless and radiant. After the first kiss, it began to sink in what was happening, and she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his face with joy, causing him to laugh and wince in equal measures.

"My love, my hero, my friend," she murmured between kisses and tears. "I was sure you would send me away, it has always been you, I love you, I love you."

That is how his brothers, Seren, and the twins found them when they came to check in on him a few minutes later, and they whooped their congratulations to Amdir's delighted embarrassment and Haldir's sheer joy. Wine was poured, friends forgiven and plans made, and as Amdir sat, beaming at her March Warden safely in her arms, and surrounded by family and friends, she wondered if it was possible to die of happiness.

And outside in the hallway, the Elvenking was making his way to the March Warden's room, but when he heard the laughter and general ruckus coming from inside, he paused. Then, with a slow smile spreading across his face, he turned around and made his way back up the hall.

THE END  :) 


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